


Growing Initiative

by Kibu



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Developing Relationship, Family Drama, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Slow Burn, Sweet/Hot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 03:43:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 27,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4861694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kibu/pseuds/Kibu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them. Tamvir Lavellan is the third option, shoved reluctantly into the spotlight as the leader of the Inquisition. The new position is a lot to get used to, especially when it involves an inescapably charming mage who intends to teach the Inquisitor the value of initiative.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Divine Providence

He had to admit, it was strangely gratifying to know that the Clan was worried about him. When he had left for the Conclave, Tamvir Lavellan had had the strangest feeling like it was the last time he would ever see the rest of Clan Lavellan. Waking up in a cell with people shouting at him and a glowing, aching mark on his hand had only reinforced that idea. He never expected to be sitting in an out-of-the-way corner of Haven’s Chantry, trying to write a letter to his Clan to let them know he was all right and not to worry about him.

As if his thoughts had summoned it, a lance of pain radiated through the palm of Tam’s left hand. He winced, putting his pen down in order to cradle his hand close to his chest. The pen nib dripped ink onto his carefully selected words and Tam cursed softly under his breath, snatching the pen back up to prevent it ruining the letter further. The mark on his hand still pulsed, dull and angry, but the real ache was as mercifully brief as it always was.

Shaken, Tam got to his feet and left the desk. Solas had claimed that the occasional flares were likely to disappear completely once the Breach was sealed, but until then there was little that could be done to stop them from happening. They didn’t happen all the time, but every time the glow worsened Tam couldn’t help but worry that his body was going to break apart or something equally terrible - and they seemed to be happening more often. With such thoughts weighing down his mind, Tam walked quickly to the door of the Chantry and let himself out into the cool air of Haven. 

The relative peace of the Chantry was a stark contrast to the din outside it: The forces of the new Inquisition shouted back and forth; the blacksmith rang with activity; messenger crows bickered in the air and on the ground; even in the middle of the afternoon, the tavern bustled with song and raucous laughter. Although Tam usually preferred solitude to the company of others, for once he welcomed the opportunity to not be alone with his thoughts. Still, he shied away from direct interaction with people, if only to avoid the discomfort of being called ‘the Herald of Andraste’.

Tam stuck to the back wall, scaling the rocks by the Chantry and looking out over the area. If anyone saw him, they paid him no mind. From a distance they could surely see the coppery beacon of his hair in the sunlight, but they were less likely to notice his pointed ears, the darkened marks of his vallaslin, or the fact that his leather armor left his feet bare. That was to say, he could have been almost anyone instead of the Dalish elf that had suddenly become a symbol for the Inquisition.

“Nimble as a halla,” said a voice below him, heavy with amusement. Whether or not it was also laden with sarcasm was harder to tell.

Tam looked down at Solas, whose smile seemed genuine enough. “Me?” Tam asked, sitting on the edge of the rock and looking down at Solas. “No, I just like climbing things.” 

“So I see,” Solas said. “Why don’t you come down? I’d like to speak with you, if you are willing.”

There was something comfortingly familiar about Solas, yet at the same time he made the hairs on the back of Tam's neck stand up. Maybe it had something to do with how much time the other elf spent in the Fade. Tam pushed off the rock to drop down next to Solas. "Is this about the mark?" Tam asked, the ghost of pain echoing through his hand when he turned his attention to it.

"In part," Solas said, leading Tam to a more out-of-the-way location when a pair of off-duty soldiers came near on their way to the tavern. "I would also like to inquire how you are doing. With everything you have experienced, I have no doubt that it must be a considerable amount to take in."

"I'm..." Tam hesitated, taking stock before he finished his sentence. "I'm all right, actually. It's a lot to take in, you're right, but I feel like I might stand a chance of doing so." He bit his lower lip, lifting his left hand palm-up to Solas. "The mark has been hurting again, though. I think it's getting more frequent."

Solas took Tam’s hand, gentle fingers prodding at the dim green mark that scarred Tam’s palm. It was in its dormant state, and all Tam felt was the faint tickling of Solas’ fingertips. After a moment, Solas shook his head and let go. “I see no difference. Still, we should endeavor to close the Breach as soon as possible.”

"You're sure that sealing the Breach will make it stop?" Tam asked hopefully. He curled his fingers in against his hand, covering the mark. If only it was so easy to convince himself it wasn't actually there.

"No," Solas replied. "When it comes to the mark on your hand, I'm not certain of anything. I simply have reasonable belief." He paused, pursing his lips as if to say more, but shook his head.

"Thank you for sharing your thoughts, anyway," Tam said, managing a small smile. "And I appreciate that you would go out of your way to check on me. Few people around here would bother."

"You are a symbol to many as the Herald of Andraste; a prophet of their god, despite the fact that you are Dalish." Solas allowed himself a smirk, sharp eyes catching the way Tam flinched at the moniker. "Tell me, Tamvir. If you do not think it was Andraste who helped you, who do you think it was? Do you attribute it to a different divine power? Mythal, perhaps, considering it is her markings you wear upon your face."

Solas had never hidden his disdain for the Dalish, and his callout to Tam's vallaslin made Tam flush with discomfort. "Well... no, not really," Tam said with a shake of his head. "It's not that I don't believe in the Creators - I just don't think they had a hand in this. People can do terrible or amazing things all on their own." He rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck, looking up at the angry, glowing tear in the sky above. "As for how I managed, I really don't know. Probably just dumb luck and being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

The look Solas gave Tam was appraising - almost surprised by his answer - but he quickly hid it with a smile. "Thank you for indulging my question with such an honest answer. Perhaps you should give yourself a bit more credit than that. You are here, are you not? You are alive when many others are not."

"I am," Tam agreed. "I know I'm not the best choice for this position, but I will do everything I can to put things right again. It's the only thing I can do."

A raven took off from Leliana's makeshift base of operations in the middle of the courtyard, winging past them on its way to deliver the message it had been tasked with. "Speaking of that, I suppose I ought to get back to work. Josephine wanted to speak about investigating the situation in Redcliffe.” Tam ruffled his hair and sighed, but flashed a shy smile. “Thank you, Solas - for being so kind."

"You're welcome," Solas said, watching thoughtfully as Tam turned and headed back into the Chantry.


	2. A Helping Hand

It was becoming a real problem, and he knew it. Despite his best efforts, Tamvir found his thoughts drifting away more and more often to that particular moment - a moment in time that had both existed and never happened all at once, which was especially confusing. It had taken Cullen three times of calling Tam's name to get his attention during the war council meeting, and Leliana was clearly getting exasperated with his lack of focus. Only Josephine helped to temper them, suggesting that perhaps their new Inquisitor was still a little off-balance from everything that had happened so quickly, not to mention how the destruction of Haven was still ringing in everyone's ears.

Josephine had shooed Tam out of the war room, placing him under orders to 'take a walk' and to 'clear his head'. He didn't need to be there for every discussion, thankfully, but it still made Tam feel like he'd done something wrong. He needed to get himself under control. It had never been a problem in the past; why was it proving to be so difficult this time?

Tam had to admit that the cold mountain air of Skyhold did help him feel a little less fuzzy. He climbed the stairs to the battlements, pausing at a crumbled place in the outer rail to look out at the snowy landscape far, far below. The snow was stained in shades of orange and red, reflecting the intense colors of the sunset.

"But don't worry. I'm here. I'll protect you."

The words were so clear, like a whisper in Tam's ear. He'd thought he was alone up here, save a few soldiers working on shoring up the masonry on one of the towers at the other end. Startled, he turned quickly, his heel catching the gravely edge of a crumbling brick. Tam flailed his arms wildly for balance, fear ripping through him like a physical force as he teetered on the edge of disaster.

A strong hand caught Tam's arm, pulling him forward and away from the dangerous break in the rail. "Careful, Your Worship. Even you would have a hard time surviving a fall like that."

It took Tam a minute to catch his breath. When the worst of the shock had worn down, he looked up at the soldier who had helped him. "Thank you," Tam said feelingly. He recognized the soldier as one of Bull's Chargers - their lieutenant, Krem. "I think you may have just saved me from my own stupidity."

"No problem," Krem said with a grin. "I do the same thing for the Chief all the time. How about you buy me a drink and we'll call it even? You look like a man who could use a drink, yourself."

"I'll do better than that: I'll buy all of your drinks for the whole evening," Tam promised. "That's the least I can do, after all."

***

Alcohol was not something Tam regularly indulged in. For someone who guarded himself as carefully as he did, the risk of losing his inhibitions under the influence was a real worry. The brown glass bottle of ale in his hand felt more like a prop than an actual drink; Tam had barely had more than a sip since acquiring it, which was a fact that had not gone unnoticed.

"So, between your little balancing act and your thousand-mile stare, I'm guessing there's something that must be bothering you," Krem said conversationally. He seemed so comfortable, leaned back in his chair and watching the other patrons of Skyhold's tavern as they came and went. Nobody gave Tam a second glance, which he was grateful for.

"What do you mean?" Tam asked, trying for casual but well aware that he was failing miserably.

"You don't have to talk if you aren't interested in talking, but a distracted leader is a surefire way to get people killed." Krem shrugged. "You seem like a good enough man, Your Worship. A little uptight, maybe, but still a good sort."

"Thank you... I think." Tam lifted the bottle to his lips but didn't actually consume any of the liquid it held.

"You do talk to someone, don't you?" Krem continued. He eyed the level of Tam's ale, clearly not fooled by the act. "One of your advisors, maybe, or even one of your companions?"

At the word 'companions', Tam blushed all the way to the tips of his ears. "I..." he started, but stopped and took a real drink before continuing. "I'm fine. Really. I appreciate your concern."

"You're dodging the question. You're also a terrible liar, not that it's any of my business." Krem shook his head. "What _is_ my business is anything that might get me, the Chief, or any of my boys killed."

Tam rested the bottle on his knee, wrapping both hands around it like protection. "...You're right," he said after a moment. "I probably do need to talk to someone about... things. But I'm supposed to be the Inquisitor - how can I lead people if they think..." He trailed off, frustrated, and ruffled a hand through his hair. Krem raised his eyebrows but said nothing, waiting for Tamvir to continue.

"There's actually something I've been thinking about. Iron Bull said something about you being from Tevinter. Is that true?" It was a painfully abrupt change of subject, and Tam knew it. If it bothered Krem, though, he didn't let on.

"It's true. Not that it means much, now. What do you want to know?" Krem asked, shifting to a more comfortable position in his chair.

"If Corypheus really is one of the ancient magisters, it's something I ought to look into," Tam explained. At least to focus was no longer directly on him. "I know very little about the Imperium as a whole."

Krem snorted. "If you want a history lesson about magisters, you'd be better off talking to Dorian instead of me. That's really more his area."

Tam blushed again, looking hastily down at his hands rather than meeting Krem's eye. "You're probably right."

"Wait. Is that what this is about?" Krem leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Are you sweet on Dorian?"

"Of course not!" Tam replied immediately, his ears burning. "I mean... it's not..." he faltered, glancing anxiously up at Krem. "It's not that obvious, is it?" He didn't wait for a response, covering his face with his hand as if that would do anything to hide him from the world. "Oh, Creators."

"He's all right to look at, I suppose. If you like that prissy mage look, anyway." Krem shrugged. "Not really my thing, but everyone has their preferences."

"You don't think it's... weird?" Tam asked, surprised by Krem's lack of reaction.

"Weird? Nah. I'm not going to judge anyone on what should be considered 'normal' by whatever bullshit standards. Beside - I've seen far stranger things." Krem half-grinned and took another pull off the bottle. "Is that what's been bothering you?"

Tam was fairly certain that his face could get no redder. He lowered his hand, curling it around the bottle again, and nodded. "Yes. I've never... I've never told anyone before. About me. Back home, it was never really mentioned and so I thought I was the only one. I didn't want to be different or singled out, so I just kept it to myself."

"I can't speak for the Dalish, of course, but I think you'll find that people around here don't much care what your preference is, Your Worship," Krem said. "They'll happily gossip about your love life whether it's with a man or a woman, human or otherwise."

"The joys of being in the spotlight," Tam said with a sigh. It felt strange and raw, letting out a secret that he had been guarding for more than half his life, but at the same time he fight lighter. He definitely felt more at-ease. "Thank you, Krem - er, Cremisius?"

"Just Krem. And you're welcome, Your Worship.”


	3. The Way They Move

It had been a long time since Tamvir had had anyone he considered a real friend. That had changed, and quickly. His disinterest in alcohol had remained the same, but despite that he still found himself heading down to Skyhold’s tavern in the evenings when he was free. Time with Krem, Iron Bull, and any of the other Chargers who were around was something Tam actually sought out.

It was later than usual when Tam finally headed into the tavern. He had stopped by to talk to Josephine and ended up in a three-hour conversation that left him with a smile, as well as a deep gratitude that Josephine filled the ambassador position so he didn’t have to. With the lateness of the hour, the crowd in the building was a little different than Tam was used to. The Chargers were gone, as was their leader. As Tam entered, he saw the distinctive heraldry that Krem always wore vanish through another door - being led away by one of the pretty serving girls.

Tam wavered on the threshold, suddenly tempted to leave even though he was barely just in the door. The bartender had seen him, however, and waved. It was too rude to turn around and leave when someone had noticed him come in. He took a few steps toward the bar before his knees buckled and he almost faceplanted into the floor. Thankfully, all he did was freeze in place for a short moment before his legs decided to work again. The desire to flee had increased tenfold, but Tam forced himself to walk to the bar and take one of the unoccupied seats on the end. Two empty stools away was Dorian, in the middle of what looked like his second bottle of wine.

“Evening, Inquisitor,” the bartender said, handing Tamvir a glass of cold apple cider. “Late night?”

“Only a little. Thank you, Cabot.” Tam took the drink, wondering silently how long he had to stay before it would no longer be rude to leave. He mulled over the question, absently tracing his finger around the rim of the cup. He didn’t realize he had an audience.

“Well, well. What brings you to this fine establishment, Inquisitor?” Dorian asked, a smirk turning up one corner of his mouth. “It can’t possibly be the drinks.”

“I…” Tam cleared his throat, curling his hands around the cup to stop himself from playing with the rim. “Normally I’m here to see friends, but they all seem to be out at the moment. I won’t be long; you’ll be able to enjoy your drinks in peace soon enough.”

“Peace? This is the Inquisition! It’s all about attacks by Archdemons and Venatori and Red Templars, from my understanding,” Dorian said with a shrug. “You ought to stay if that’s what you want to do. Don’t let the unwashed masses chase you out of your own tavern.”

Tam blushed and looked down, unsure what to say. If he agreed with Dorian, he would feel obligated to stay longer before retreating to the relative safety of his quarters. However, he couldn’t disagree with him, either. He was rescued from having to choose one or the other when Dorian kept talking.

“You’re thinking, aren’t you?” Dorian asked curiously. A glance revealed that he was watching Tam with an intensity that just made the Inquisitor blush harder. “Did you know that your ears move? It seems dependent on what you’re thinking about - it’s quite fascinating!”

“I’m… aware,” Tam managed to say, though his lips felt numb. He felt his ears shift as he spoke, sudden and absolute mortification causing them to pull in toward his head and flatten like a nervous cat’s would. They had always done that - moving as a subtle indicator of mood. Tamvir was so used to it that he rarely bothered to think about it. Having it pointed out so bluntly made him want to cover his ears with his hands, but he gripped the cup and resisted.

“Do all elves’ ears do that, or is it a Dalish thing?” Dorian continued, getting up from his seat and bringing his partly-full bottle over to the stool directly beside Tam’s. “Or is it unique to you?”

“It’s quite normal as far as I’m aware,” Tam said, scooting uncomfortably to the farthest edge of his seat. “I assume you have not met many elves?”

“There are elves all over in Tevinter. Slaves, though, and none that I’ve bothered to watch for very long,” Dorian said, unknowingly adding further to Tam’s discomfort. “Is it something used for communication? Sort of like… eyebrows, I suppose?”

“Something like tha-- hey!” Tam recoiled, throwing himself off the side of the stool in his haste to get away when Dorian reached out to touch one of his ears. It ended up being the lightest brush of his fingertips, a sensation that arced through Tam like lightning before his body hit the wooden floor with a thud and the whoosh of his breath being knocked out of him.

“Are you all right?” Dorian asked, looking down at him in surprise.

“F-Fine,” Tam stammered, picking himself up and backpedaling as soon as he got his feet under him again. “I need to go,” he said quickly, not giving Dorian a chance to say anything. “Goodnight, Dorian.”

Tamvir fled, any and all worries about being polite far, far from his mind. He was dimly aware of Dorian calling something after him, but the words were garbled and sounded like they came from the end of a long tunnel. Tam just sprinted for his quarters and the welcome peace and solitude that they offered.


	4. Special Delivery

It felt like no matter where he went in Skyhold, Tam couldn’t avoid running into Dorian. He hadn’t been to the tavern since that night three days before, but the aversion had done absolutely nothing except make him miss talking with Krem. They’d barely had a chance for more than a handful of words in the few times they’d crossed paths, and never in a place where Tam felt like he could actually say anything important.

Having to go to meet with Leliana in her rookery was the worst. Dorian was always there, poking around at the books on the shelves or rifling through a stack of them that came up nearly to his waist. Tam had to be very careful and hurry across the walkway to the next flight of stairs to avoid being spotted. He hated making it seem like he was going out of his way to ignore Dorian, but it was better than being caught like a startled halla in the full weight of that gray gaze.

It had been a mistake stopping by Josephine’s office rather than just going up to his quarters, but Tam was too restless to retire early. There were things he could do in his room - the never-ending mountain of paperwork on his desk was beginning to loom dangerously high, for example - but the quiet activities like writing, reading a book, or playing music did nothing to help ease Tam’s restless energy. Josephine had not had much time to talk. Instead, she had looked up as Tam entered and cheerfully, if sheepishly, asked him to deliver a parcel to Leliana.

Tam was not above being something of a delivery boy, but hadn’t stopped to consider the path he had to take to get to Leliana. He dawdled at the bottom of the stairs, looking around at the half-finished murals that surrounded Solas’s desk and resolutely not looking up toward the banisters that overlooked the center of the tower. He had promised Josephine that he would do this small task. Besides, it was late enough that most of the usual folk who spent their time in Skyhold’s library would be cleared out. Surely Dorian would be gone to the tavern, himself. There was no reason for Tam to be so nervous.

Squaring his shoulders, Tam climbed the stairs. He still breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t see Dorian, shifting the package under his arm and heading for the next staircase that would lead him up to his ultimate goal.

The relief was short-lived. Dorian came out of one of the little side alcoves, carrying a book in one hand, and Tam stopped short to avoid running into him. The package Tam carried hit the floor with a resonant thud, and Tam was fairly certain that the smallest squeaky noise of surprise escaped him before he could try to stop it.

“Oh! Inquisitor,” Dorian said, bending down to retrieve the package before Tam had recovered enough to realize he’d dropped it. “I would ask what brings you here at this hour, but I believe this would be the answer to my question.”

“Er… yes,” Tam finally said. “Josephine asked me to take it to Leliana for her. She had too much to finish up to take it herself.”

“Using the Inquisitor as a delivery boy?” Dorian asked with a chuckle. “I suppose I can’t fault her. I could watch you roam Skyhold all day.”

“I beg your pardon?” Tam asked, taking a step backward. He was certain that his face must be as red as his hair, and he was hyper-aware of the way his ears flattened to mirror his mood.

“Running along here and there, checking in on people and going out of your way to do things for them. When are they going to do things for you? Come to you to feed you grapes, rub your shoulders?” Dorian grinned, as if inviting Tam to share in some strange, private joke. “I suppose it’s more fun this way. For me, I mean.”

“Fun?” Tam repeated. He glanced back, seeing the edge of the staircase not far behind him. It forced him to stop his slow creep backward and actually take a step forward, closer to Dorian.

“Of course.” Dorian held out the package, offering it for Tam to take. “You’re rather strapping.”

“Er… thank you,” Tam said uncertainly. He took the box, inspecting it for any damage. It was a welcome distraction from looking up at Dorian.

“It’s an easy thing to notice,” Dorian continued. “It only takes eyes.”

“I have those,” Tam commented, not quite listening. One of the corners of the parcel had broken, the thin, soft wood having completely given way. It made him worry about the safety of the contents. Hopefully it was nothing delicate.

“You do! A rather fetching pair.” Dorian laughed again. When Tam looked up, he found himself captured, unable to look away.

Tam licked lips gone suddenly dry, casting about for words that had abandoned him. Their surroundings felt blurry, a haze of shadow and flickering candlelight, with Dorian as the only image clearly in focus. “Um,” Tam managed, his heart beating so hard it felt like it was going to break him apart from the inside.

“Tamvir!” A different voice sliced through the fog, waking Tam up with the force of alarm bells. “I don’t suppose that parcel is from Josephine, is it?” Leliana asked. She was leaning on the balcony railing above them on the opposite side of the tower, looking down at the two of them with an unreadable expression.

“Y-Yes! It is,” Tam replied. To Dorian, he said, “I must be going. If you’ll excuse me?” He very carefully did not look up for fear of freezing under his scrutiny again, choosing instead to focus on Dorian’s rather impressive boots.

“Well, you didn’t pass by to hear me fawn, after all,” Dorian said. He sounded disappointed. “I’m sorry to have distracted you from your task.” He turned to the bookshelf behind him, searching out the empty space where the book he held belonged and putting his back to Tam.

Tam fled up the stairs. Leliana met him at the top, the ghost of a smile on her lips. It may have just been a trick of the light. “Thank you, Tamvir. I am sure this is very important for her to send it to me so late.”

“I’m sorry to have delayed it,” Tam said anxiously. “And it… it fell. I hope that nothing is broken.”

“I’m sure it is fine,” Leliana assured him. “What is important is that you brought it to me.”

“Would you like me to take anything back to Josephine for you?” Tam asked, looking down at the ring of the tower below them. It was the wrong place to see what he was looking for, of course.

“No, thank you.” Leliana’s smile was definitely not just the play of candlelight. “Why don’t you and Dorian go get a drink? As my apology for interrupting you.” She handed Tam a small bag of coin before he could protest and gently turned him around to face the stairs again. “Go.”

Tam almost stumbled on his way back down, his feet moving automatically while his mind churned. What was he going to say? There wasn’t even a thought to spare for backing out of it; Leliana would undoubtedly be watching, and it was not wise to cross her in even something so small.

Dorian was still perusing the bookcase. He glanced at Tam as Tam approached, but didn’t move to engage him until Tam actually came toward him instead of the next set of stairs. “Something you need?” he asked.

“Leliana wants to buy us a drink,” Tam said, the words sounding ungainly even to him. He held out the small pouch of coins - as proof, or perhaps as defense.

“That was very kind of her.” Dorian’s eyes scanned the railing above them for a moment before focusing back on Tam. The weight of that gaze was difficult to carry.

“Well? Would you like to… go with me?” Tam asked, his face flushing again.

“Why, Inquisitor Lavellan! If I didn’t know any better I would think you were asking me on a date.” Dorian grinned. Tam knew his shock must have shown on his face, especially when Dorian hastily added, “Of course, we both know that it’s all due to the spymistress’s kindness. Shall we go?”

As Tam and Dorian left, taking all of their awkward tension with them, Leliana cracked open the parcel and took out a single sheet of paper. _‘Tell me all about his reaction!’_ was all Josephine’s elaborately packaged note said.


	5. Old Habits

The paperwork on Tam's desk in his quarters was starting to reach unacceptable levels. Even with Josephine processing the majority of what came in to the Inquisition, there were still things that needed the Inquisitor, himself, to agree with what was being done or said. It also was no bad plan that Tam should be completely informed of what was going on while he was out closing rifts and trying to put the world in some semblance of order.

He had shut himself into his room at Josephine's unsubtle suggestion despite the beautiful weather outside. The windows to the balconies were open, allowing in the gentle breeze and as much sunshine as possible. If he couldn't be outside, he would bring as much of it in with him as he could.

Setting aside a letter from Orlais, from some noble with a name Tam couldn't pronounce and written in a spidery script that made his eyes hurt, Tam flipped through the scout reports and settled on one from one of Leliana's scouts at the Crossroads in the Hinterlands. The Inquisition was really doing some good there; refugees were getting the care they needed. Good news was always appreciated, especially when it was as rare a thing as it had been lately.

A knock came at the door, but Tam barely looked up to acknowledge it. It was probably Josephine or one of her agents, come to deliver another stack of paper. "It's open," he said, tapping the back end of the pen against his lips as he read over the second page of the report. The door opened, but Tam didn't notice anything out of the ordinary until he'd signed off on the report and set it aside with the other completed ones.

"Good news?" Dorian asked. He stood at the top of the stairs, watching Tam but not approaching until he'd been seen. "You seem happy." He walked to the desk, adding the pages he carried to the stack at Tam's elbow.

"Er... yes, good news," Tam said. It was a good thing he wasn't trying to write, or else he would have blotted ink everywhere when Dorian spoke. He put the pen down, running his other hand through his hair self-consciously and trying not to look like Dorian had startled him so badly. "What brings you all the way up here?"

"Leliana thought I looked bored." Dorian shrugged, but he was smiling. "What was that you were singing just now?"

"Singing?" Tam asked. "I wasn-- oh, Creators." He blushed, burying his face in his hands. "It's an old habit I picked up from my sister," he explained. "I'm sorry you had to hear that."

"Why apologize? You have a good voice, and it sounded like a cheerful sort of tune." Dorian sounded sincere, which made Tam risk hesitantly looking up at him. “You do it a lot, you know,” Dorian continued. He perched on the edge of the desk, careful to not displace any of the specifically organized papers. “Singing, I mean. When you’re doing little tasks.”

“I don’t do it on purpose,” Tam said hurriedly, trying to explain. It was something he had done for so long that he didn’t realize he was still doing it. “My sister, Lasani - she’s a brilliant singer, so she was always doing it, and then when she wasn’t around much anymore I found that I would do it just to break the silence.”

“I suppose I owe your sister my thanks, then.” Dorian grinned, his eyes never leaving Tam’s face. “It’s always a joy to hear you. Would you sing something a bit louder, perhaps?”

Tam blushed again. “No, oh, no. Please. I couldn’t.”

“Just pretend I’m not here,” Dorian suggested. “You would do it anyway, wouldn’t you? So just a little louder and on purpose.”

Tam paused, taking a deep breath but letting it out in a rush and looking up at Dorian. “I can’t. Not with you watching me like that,” he admitted.

“Easy enough,” Dorian said cheerfully. He turned his back to Tam, still leaning against the edge of the desk but instead focusing on the stained glass windows that decorated the walls.

Tam licked his lips, steadying his breath and training his eyes on the report in front of him. If he tried not to think about his audience, it was just like any other time. The first tune that came to mind was one that made him blush, but his mind stubbornly refused to supply anything else. At least it was all in Dalish; only he would know what he was saying.

The words tumbled out at first, breathy and too fast from nerves, but Tam reeled himself in quickly. He tapped his hand on the desk to keep time, setting a tempo for the words of the upbeat, catchy little melody. Without music, it was quick and simple and over before Tam had the chance to get embarrassed again.

The silence, even with the distant sounds of soldiers training out on the grounds of Skyhold far below, closed in around them. To Tam, it was almost deafening. Dorian was unmoving, leaning comfortably against the desk and still seeming to be watching the stained glass. Tam swallowed hard, fighting the way his heart tried to rise into his throat. “That’s all,” he finally said, needing to break that silence.

“Damn. I was hoping you’d sing something else,” Dorian said with a sigh. He turned, looking at Tam with an intensity that would have been terrifying if he hadn’t seemed so… peaceful.

“Mythal’s mercy - why would you want me to?” Tam rubbed the bridge of his nose nervously. “Really, it’s better when Lasa sings them. Or anyone but me. Honestly.”

“I don’t want to hear any of them,” Dorian said, leaning a little closer. “I want to hear you.”

“Dorian,” Tam said, unable to stop his eyes from flicking down to Dorian’s lips. A shiver ran up his spine and he looked away, shattering the spell in the air. “I should probably get back to work.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Dorian’s expression become one of utter disappointment. That was such a silly thought that Tam had to look back up to be sure he was wrong. Dorian met his gaze with a smile, but it felt hollow.

“The Inquisitor’s work is never done, to be sure,” Dorian said. “I’ll leave you to it.” He left the desk, but paused at the top of the stairs. “Tamvir? What was that song about?”

“What?” Tam asked. “Why?”

“I’m just curious. Whatever it was, you looked very happy.”

“You were watching me?” Tam asked, affronted.

“How could I not?” Dorian countered, glancing back at Tam with his eyebrows raised.

Tam blushed. “It’s nothing, really. Just a song my sister taught me.”

“All right. I’ll take that answer for now,” Dorian said. “It sounded like… a love song. Silly of me to think, I’m sure.” He walked down the stairs to the door, humming the ghost of the melody.

Tam sat very still until the door clicked shut and he could no longer hear Dorian’s retreating footsteps. Only when the oppressive silence had settled in around him like a shroud did he bury his face in his hands and groan.


	6. The Magister's Letter

“…And that was what she told me. I haven’t read it for myself, though. It felt wrong to,” Tamvir said, running his hand through his hair - which was already thoroughly mussed from earlier repetitions of the same gesture. There was always a risk, when visiting the Herald’s Rest tavern, of potentially running into Dorian and making a fool of himself like Tam always seemed to do. However, the need to talk matters over with his friend was stronger than that lingering anxiety. Tam had dragged a chair over to Krem’s usual corner, sitting on it backwards in order to hug his arms around the simple laddered back. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s a load of shit, really, but you’d be better off giving him the choice on it,” Krem said. “If Dorian’s told you things between him and his father are strained, and now that same father - who also happens to be a magister - wants to get in contact with him… well, it sounds fishy if you ask me.”

“So you think I should tell Dorian?” Tam asked, switching from tousling his hair to nervously trying to comb it into some semblance of order.

“I don’t think you should lie to him. That’s a quick way to ruin a relationship,” Krem pointed out.

“Who said anything about a relationship?” Tam’s eyed widened, his grip on the chair tightening to keep him from falling off. 

“Easy, Your Worship!” Krem grinned. “Friendship is a type of relationship; it doesn’t have to mean romantic. Though I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t mind if it turned that way, would you?” Tam blushed and Krem laughed, swapping his drink to his left hand in order to reach over and help Tam settle his messy hair. “There - very pretty. Planning to go see him before you lose the nerve, I take it?”

“Yes,” Tam admitted. He stood up and pushed the chair back to the table where it belonged.

“Good!” Krem watched Tam square his narrow shoulders as best he could and head for the door. Before he left, Krem shouted, “Get it, Tam!” He was rewarded with the way Tam suddenly froze, his flattened ears turning an impressive shade of red before he hurried out the door.

***

Once Tam entered the great hall he knew there was no turning back. Pacing would draw attention, and loitering around Solas’ desk when he was actually using it was likely to result in suspicious glances or outright glares, depending on Solas’ mood. Tam took a deep breath and climbed the stairs but almost lost his nerve at the top of them. There was no reason to be so nervous in the presence of one man, no matter how handsome or charming he might be. Or so Tam tried to reason with himself.

Dorian was where he always seemed to be. As Tam left the stairwell, Dorian turned from where he was leaning on the railing and looked right at him. It felt almost like he had been expecting Tam’s arrival. “Inquisitor Lavellan, himself,” Dorian said, an easy smile on his face. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Tam tried to ignore the butterflies that had taken up residence in his stomach. He was proud of himself when he managed words that made sense and didn’t shake. “I was just speaking with Mother Giselle, and she gave me a letter that you really ought to see.”

“A letter?” Dorian left the rail, stepping so close to Tam that Tam could smell the faintly floral soap that Dorian used and feel the heat that radiated from his skin. “What sort of letter could the Inquisitor have received that he would want to share with me?” Dorian smirked, and Tam tried not to be mesmerized by the movement of his lips and the perfect curl of his mustache. “Is it a naughty letter?” Dorian asked, his voice dropping to just above a whisper.

Tam swallowed hard, feeling his cheeks flame at the same time that Dorian’s words stirred a similar sort of reaction much lower. “N-No, nothing like that,” Tam said hastily, taking a step back to put some much-needed space between them. “It’s from your father.”

The transformation in Dorian was immediate and alarming. It was like a wall had suddenly crashed down between them. Anger twisted his lip instead of a smile, a small crease appearing between his perfectly sculpted brows. “From my father. I see.”

Tam quickly pulled the letter from the pouch on his belt and held it out to Dorian, the broken wax seal of House Pavus as red as blood against the thick, expensive vellum it had been affixed to. “He says he wants to meet with you.”

Dorian took the letter and walked away, moving into the nearby alcove in order to catch more light from the window. His eyes sped over the neat, precise handwriting, and it wasn’t long before he scoffed aloud. “’I know my son’,” he quoted with a sneer, voice dripping with unbridled contempt.

Tam winced, suddenly wondering if it had been a bad idea to deliver the letter in person. He knew that Dorian did not have a good relationship with his father, so Tam had also known to expect a negative reaction when Dorian found out. He was just beginning to realize that he had put himself in the line of fire, running the risk of having the brunt of Dorian’s venom directed at him.

“What my father knows of me would barely fill a thimble,” Dorian continued, crumpling the letter into a ball and dropping it onto the seat of the nearby chair. “This is so typical.”

“Should I… leave you alone?” Tam asked, gesturing toward the stairs with a small nod of his head. “We don’t have to do anything about it right now, and I don’t wish to intrude on something so personal…”

“Stay,” Dorian said, more abrupt than he meant to be. Tam froze where his was, his stomach tying itself in knots as Dorian retrieved the letter from the chair and smoothed it back out. He skimmed over it again, searching through the words as if there was something he might have missed before.

“Do you… do you think you might want to meet with this retainer, then?” Tam ventured. “It could be a good thing. I think maybe he could tell you what your family wants; why your father wrote to you.”

“I didn’t ask what you think, did I?” Dorian snapped.

Tam ducked his head defensively, his ears taking a sharp downturn and his eyes widening with shock. Taking the full force of Dorian’s anger was a brutal slap when he hadn’t been expecting it - he _should_ have expected it. “I’m sorry,” Tam said, backing up a few steps.

“So am I,” Dorian said, anger replaced by regret. “That was… unworthy, and I apologize.”

“Your anger is warranted,” Tam said. “It’s obvious that there is some kind of bad blood between you and your family,” he pointed out, still considering making a dash for the stairs.

Rather than getting mad again, Dorian surprised Tam by barking a short laugh. “Interesting turn of phrase,” he said cryptically, but his shoulders seemed a little bit less tense. “And you are correct. They do not care for my choices, nor I for theirs.” He stuffed the letter into a pocket and shook his head. “Regardless of my feelings toward them, I have no right to take this out on you, Tamvir. You deserve much better than such hostility.”

“Save the hostility for your family’s retainer?” Tam suggested tentatively. He wasn’t sure what to expect from Dorian now. Dorian had gone from joking to furious to apologetic in quick succession, leaving Tam unsure what sort of reaction his weak joke would receive.

“Not a bad idea,” Dorian agreed thoughtfully. “I suppose there would be no harm in hearing what this man of my father’s has to say. Assuming, of course, this ‘retainer’ is not just some henchman hired to knock me on the head and drag me back to Tevinter.” Dorian’s half-smirk told Tam he was back to jesting, though his eyes remained shadowed.

“Would your father actually do that?” Tam asked. He tried to imagine it happening, Dorian taken by surprise by some nondescript ruffian, but it was hard to picture anyone managing to do that without getting electrocuted or frozen solid by Dorian’s magic.

“Well, no,” Dorian admitted, “though I certainly wouldn’t put it past him.” He moved closer to Tam, who abruptly realized he had backed himself up against the railing. “Most likely it’s just some lackey who I’ll send back to my father to deliver the message that he can stick his alarm in his ‘wit’s end’.”

“Why do you think he’s trying to contact you now, Dorian?” Tam asked, keeping his gaze downturned rather than risking getting caught up in Dorian’s eyes. “Is this about what you mentioned before? That you didn’t want to get married?”

“It could be,” Dorian said, keeping his tone carefully neutral. “Let’s just see what this man has to say. I wonder how much my father paid this man to wait around just in case I showed?” He added with a chuckle, his whole demeanor lightening.

Tam made the mistake of looking up. Time seemed to stop, his breath freezing in his chest as the world fell away and left only the two of them. The moment shattered like a dropped mirror when Dorian turned and leaned on the banister as he had been when Tam first arrived. The broken moment left an ache in its wake, followed by a deep relief that left Tam’s knees shaking.

“We can head out to Redcliffe whenever you’re ready,” Tam said, clearing his throat and trying to sound normal. “I’ll let Josephine know that we’re leaving and ask the stablehands to get our mounts.”

“I’ll meet you at the stables,” Dorian agreed with a nod. As Tam turned to leave, Dorian’s voice made him pause. “And Tamvir? Thank you for letting me know about this.”

Tam turned back to him, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “You’re welcome.”


	7. Reconciliation

Tam’s entire body was tense. His knuckles were white where they clenched tightly on the reins, just as they had been the whole time since leaving Skyhold. He still hadn’t recovered from Dorian bodily lifting him up onto the hart’s back and climbing up behind him while he was too shocked to argue. They rode double through the gentle beauty of the Hinterlands, Tam’s personal mount more than capable of carrying them both together. The hart had been a gift from Clan Lavellan to their newly-famous son and was enormous in comparison to Tam, easily large enough for two people to ride at once provided they were comfortable with each other.

Tam was on edge, painfully aware of Dorian’s presence behind him and the feel of his warm hands on Tam’s waist whenever the hart moved unexpectedly. Tam’s ears burned from constant blushing. He knew his discomfort was blatantly obvious, but so far Dorian hadn’t commented on it. It was likely that Dorian was too concerned with what they were riding toward to be bothered with the redness of Tam’s ears.

There had been no choice other than taking the single mount. All of the horses in the stable were out with the troops, in-use by Leliana’s scouts, or held aside for visiting dignitaries. Had they waited for another to become available, it would have been at least a week if not more. Tam and Dorian had argued at first, each of them trying to get the other to ride while he walked alongside, but eventually Dorian had gotten fed up with the squabble and settled it himself. Tam’s head swam whenever he thought about how he could just lean back against Dorian’s chest if he wanted to - or, perhaps more accurately, if he let himself.

The scenery passed in peace, Tam too preoccupied with keeping himself under tight control to even hum under his breath like he ordinarily would. As they entered Redcliffe, Dorian stirred like he was coming out of a trance.

“We could still turn back,” Dorian said, breaking the miles-long silence. 

“Do you want to?” Tam asked. “If that’s what you want, we can do that.”

Dorian sighed. “Yes, but no. I suppose we’re already here so we might as well see what this retainer has to say.”

“If you’re sure,” Tam said. He guided the hart through town, avoiding people as much as possible before coming to a halt outside the tavern. “Should I come in with you?”

“If you don’t mind. I’d feel less of a fool with you with me if there’s no one here.” Dorian dismounted first. When Tam moved to do the same, Dorian caught him around the waist and helped him down to the ground. It was a perfect parallel to how Tam had gotten up on the hart in the first place.

“Thank you,” Tam said, his stomach fluttering like he’d swallowed a whole swarm of butterflies. He was short even among his own people, but there were times when Dorian made him feel especially tiny. Unlike many others who had that effect, however, Dorian never made him feel like less for it.

Tam was grateful for the necessary distraction of securing the hart before they went in. It gave him a moment to compose himself and the gather what little, tenuous composure he could summon. Dorian waited for him, then pushed the door open and they headed inside together.

The tavern was completely deserted. After everything that had happened in and around Redcliffe, Tam would have thought the tavern would be full of people seeking solace in drink and the company of the similarly inebriated, but there was not a soul to be seen.

“Uh oh, nobody’s here,” Dorian muttered in an undertone. Tam’s nerves increased, his fingers twitching with the desire to draw his daggers for protection. A glance down showed Dorian having a similar problem, his hands clenched into tight fists. “This doesn’t bode well.”

The light scuff of boots on stone caught Tam’s attention, ears flaring in an effort to pinpoint the noise. Movement of the shadows of the stairs to the second floor worked with the sound to tell Tam someone was there before the man stepped into sight. Dorian didn’t notice at first, until Tam touched his arm to alert him. Dorian tensed and Tam quickly pulled his hand back before he realized that it was the stranger who had caused Dorian’s sudden reaction.

“Dorian,” the strange man said, clasping his hands in front of him. There was a certain resemblance between him and Dorian: in the line of his nose, the tilt of his eyes, the way he carried himself with no small amount of self-confidence.

“Father,” Dorian replied. Tam’s eyes widened as he looked between Dorian and his father, the resemblance all the more pronounced when he knew their relationship. “So the whole story about the ‘family retainer’ was just… what? A smoke screen?” The tension that Tam had felt in Dorian’s arm had clearly spread to the rest of him, even his voice tight with barely-leashed fury.

“Then you were told.” Magister Halward Pavus walked closer to them, though there was still a gap between him and his son that felt as wide as the whole Frostback mountain range. “I apologize for the deception, Inquisitor. I never intended for you to be involved.”

“Of course not,” Dorian scoffed, waving off the idea as he took a challenging step closer to his father. It quickly dawned on Tam that by doing that, Dorian had deliberately interposed himself between Halward and Tam. It was a protective gesture that made Tam’s heart do a flip despite how inappropriate that was in their current situation. Dorian, thankfully, was oblivious to Tam’s ill-timed thoughts.

“Magister Pavus couldn’t be seen with the dread Inquisitor,” Dorian continued. “What would people think?” Sarcasm laced every word, threaded tightly with his barely-restrained anger. “Tell me, Father - what is this, exactly? Ambush? Kidnapping? Warm family reunion?”

The magister remained outwardly calm, but Tam saw the same crease between his eyebrows that Dorian got when he was upset. Halward sighed, his shoulders dropping a fraction. “This is how it has always been.”

“Surely you must have a reason,” Tam said, flushing when they both turned their full attention to him. “I mean, you went through all the trouble of coming home and getting Dorian to meet with you,” he pointed out, lifting his chin slightly. He felt oddly defiant under Magister Pavus’ dismissive regard. “Well, here you both are. Not taking advantage of his opportunity would be a waste. Talk to him.”

“Yes, Father,” Dorian agreed with his steely glare once again focused on Halward. “Talk to me. Let me hear how mystified you are by my anger.”

"Dorian, there's no need to--" Halward began, but Dorian cut him off abruptly.

“I prefer the company of men,” Dorian said, crossing his arms over his chest. “My father disapproves.” His lip curled, what he thought about his father’s opinion abundantly clear.

Tam barely heard Dorian, sounds seeming to come from very far away. He felt numb, like he'd been plunged through the thin ice over a lake in winter. "I… what?" he said, his lips moving to form the words despite his barely being able to feel his own body.

"Did I stutter?" Dorian asked. "Men, and the company thereof. As in sex," he said fiercely. "Surely you've heard of it."

“I have,” Tam said, the white noise of his overworked heart beginning to clear. “I-I’m the same, actually,” he added, speaking without thinking. When his brain caught up, he felt the wash of heat as he suddenly blushed from head to toe.

“No! The Herald of Andraste?” Dorian gasped, his sarcasm almost a physical force. “I am shocked and scandalized.”

Tam flinched, taking an involuntary step backward. He could do nothing to hide how deep Dorian’s words cut, having been completely unprepared for his own admission. “What?” he managed to get out around his closed-off throat.

“You’re not exactly subtle, oh Lord Inquisitor,” Dorian sniped back. It sounded like an accusation, leaving Tam confused and hurt with the thin veil of his confidence cut to ribbons. His mind reeled and he took another step back toward the door.

"I should have known that's what this was about," Halward said, disgusted and clearly annoyed.

There was a flicker of something in Dorian’s eyes, like he just realized what he’d done, but his father’s words brought his fury back to full force. “No,” he said, turning that rage to his true target. “You don’t get to make those assumptions. He is not why you’re here.” He turned his back on Tam, shielding him completely from Halward’s view.

Halward scowled, his handsome face marred by the expression. "This is not what I wanted."

"I'm never what you wanted, Father," Dorian replied bitterly. "Or had you forgotten?"

“Dorian--“ Halward tried, but Dorian cut him off.

“I’ve heard enough,” Dorian said, his lip curling in disgust. “Let’s just go, Tamvir.”

“Dorian, please, if you’ll only listen to me,” Halward tried again, his calm demeanor cracking slightly.

“Why?” Dorian snapped, crossing the distance between them with short, purposeful strides. His words came out clipped, his anger spilling out like a waterfall. “So you can spout more convenient lies?” He got right up in Halward’s face, his hands clenched at his sides so tightly that they trembled. “ _He_ taught me to hate blood magic. ‘The resort of a weak mind.’ Those are _his_ words.” They were almost nose-to-nose, Dorian staring his father down unflinchingly.

“But what was the first thing you did when your precious heir refused to play pretend for the rest of his life.” Dorian waited for a response that didn’t come, his glare suddenly melting into a look of undisguised pain. “You tried to change me!”

"I only wanted what was best for you!" Halward claimed, though his previously calm and collected demeanor seemed rattled.

Dorian’s face crumpled like he might cry before he tried to hide it behind the shield wall of rage. “You wanted what was best for _you_! For your fucking legacy! Anything for that!”

Tam saw the way Dorian faltered, what could have easily become another angry tirade breaking off abruptly. Dorian turned on his heel and walked away from his father, brushing past Tam on his way too the door. Tam caught Dorian’s arm before he could leave, making him reluctantly stop and look down at him.

“Dorian,” Tam said softly, reaching up to gently wipe a gathered bead of moisture from the corner of Dorian’s eye. No matter how hard Dorian’s outburst had hit Tam, he couldn’t stop himself from caring, his heart clenching on Dorian’s behalf. “We can go if that’s what you want,” Tam assured him. He bit his lip, debating on the rest of what he wanted to say. Like in Skyhold, his advice would be unwanted and unsolicited and he risked turning Dorian’s ire toward him again, but his concern wouldn’t let him stay quiet. “But is this really where you want to leave things?”

Dorian’s eyes, filled with anguish, held Tam’s for a long moment before he closed them with a sigh. He nodded slightly, his shoulder sagging as he closed himself off from the roiling flood of rage. When he opened his eyes again he seemed more centered, and he turned back to Halward with his hand on Tam’s shoulder for stability.

"Tell me why you came," Dorian said, clinging to the tattered remains of a false calm that Tam knew he didn't really feel. Dorian was still trying, despite everything.

"If I knew I would drive you to the Inquisition..." Halward said, his face a mask of regret.

“You didn’t,” Dorian sighed, his hand heavy on Tam’s shoulder. “I joined the Inquisition because it’s the right thing to do. Once I had a father who would have known that.” Disappointment radiated from Dorian and he rubbed his face with his free hand. “Let’s just go, Tam,” he said, defeated.

Tam nodded before turning and leading the way to the door. He had the door open and had stepped out into the bright sunlight before Halward’s voice made Dorian stop short.

“Once I had a son who trusted me,” Halward said from behind them. Dorian turned quickly, looking back into the shadowed interior of the tavern. “I only wanted to talk to him. To hear his voice again. To ask him to forgive me.” There was a raw edge to his words, an unexpected honestly that made Tam and Dorian exchange a look of surprise.

Tam shrugged, gesturing to Halward with a small jerk of his head. Dorian nodded. “I’ll speak to him alone,” Dorian said quietly. “Wait here?”

“I’ll be here,” Tam assured him.

“Thank you,” Dorian said with a small, but genuine smile. He walked back into the tavern, the door swinging shut behind them.

Tam couldn’t help being nervous on Dorian’s behalf, but he let him go. Dorian and his father both needed and deserved some time alone to talk privately.


	8. Give Me Shelter

Tamvir had experienced some uncomfortable rides in his life, but nothing he’d encountered before was even a fraction as awkward as the ride back to Skyhold from Redcliffe. Neither he nor Dorian spoke; Dorian was clearly wrapped up in the things he and his father had finally been able to discuss, and Tam was preoccupied with his own thoughts as well. That didn’t mean that Tam wasn’t aware of every tiny shift that Dorian made behind him as the hart picked its way across the snowy landscape. Dorian’s hands were shockingly warm whenever the steepness of the trail forced him to grip Tam’s waist for balance. In those moments Tam could feel how close Dorian’s body was to his, the way warmth radiated from him and beckoned tantalizingly.

Reaching Skyhold was equal parts deep relief and devastating loss. When they got to the stables, Dorian slid down from the hart’s back and spoke for the first time since leaving Redcliffe. “Thank you for accompanying me.”

“I… of course,” Tam stammered. He cast around for the right words, but Dorian didn’t wait for him to continue. Dorian turned and headed back into the castle, leaving Tam alone with the weedy stableboy who had run up to help with the hart.

Normally Tam liked to stay and take care of the animal himself; there was a certain sort of grounding that came from spending time brushing his mount and cleaning its tack. This time, however, Tam’s feet had barely touched the ground before he was running for the main entrance to the keep. Dorian only had a small head start on him, surely Tam could catch up--

“Inquisitor!”

Tam came to a reluctant halt, biting his tongue against an Elvhen curse. It wasn’t Josephine’s fault, after all. Josephine left a pair of Orlesians who were admiring the great hall’s décor and walked quickly to where Tam waited for her. She offered a smile that Tam struggled to return.

“It is good that you are back, Tamvir. Some of our guests were inquiring about when you would return. Lord Aurele has been particularly determined to invite you to dine with him and his lady tonight - quite specifically tonight, in fact.” Josephine kept her politeness, but she was clearly puzzled about the request.

“I can’t, Josephine,” Tam said, standing on tiptoe to look past Josephine. The hall was bustling with people, making it difficult to pick one person from the crowd.

“I understand. Another time, perhaps.” Josephine made a note on her clipboard and then stepped aside. “Go, Tamvir. I’m sure he’ll be waiting for you.”

Tam looked at her in surprise. Josephine blushed, and Tam found himself doing the same. “What are you waiting for?” Josephine said, making a shooing motion with her free hand. “Go!”

“I… thank you, Josephine,” Tam said feelingly. He would have to ask later how she knew, but there were more pressing matters on his mind. He hurried through the hall to the library tower, where the sudden quiet hit like a wall. Solas looked up from his desk, where he was sifting through pages of ancient-looking books, his expression one of faint disgust. Tam slowed to a walk, edging around the outer perimeter of the room until he reached the stairs. There he took the steps two at a time, but stopped at the top.

The library wasn’t empty; people walked through the shelves looking for different things, or occupied the scattered tables with books, paper, and pens strewn about them like so much flotsam. Dorian, however, was nowhere in sight. Tam left the stairway, bare feet making no sound as he crept to the edge of the alcove Dorian usually occupied.

Dorian was there, to Tam’s great relief. He was leaning against the leaded glass window, his face mostly hidden as he stared out over the grounds. Dorian was always so confident, so self-assured, but every line of his body spoke a different story. He looked lost. Tam almost left him alone with his thoughts, but concern won out.

“Dorian?” Tam asked hesitantly, stepping into the little semi-circle between the shelves.

“He says we’re alike. Too much pride,” Dorian said, barely glancing over his shoulder at Tam. “Once I would have been overjoyed to hear him say that. Now I’m not certain. I don’t know if I can forgive him.” He fell silent again, his expression as tortured and uncertain as Tam had assumed from his body language.

All Tam wanted was to make the pain leave Dorian’s eyes, to smooth the lines of worry from his face. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked tentatively. “Or- or I can go, if you’d prefer.”

“You don’t have to leave,” Dorian said, turning away from the window. “I suppose I owe you some sort of explanation after that whole display.”

“You owe me nothing, Dorian,” Tam assured him with a shake of his head.

“Be that as it may, I am sure you have questions. I’m willing to answer them.” Dorian leaned back on the casement, watching Tam with a clouded expression.

“I… well, you said before that your father tried to change you. What did you mean by that?” Tam asked uncertainly. “It sounded like it must have been something terrible.”

“It was out of desperation,” Dorian said with a sigh. “Not that that excuses it - not by half.” He crossed his arms, shifting uncomfortably. “I wouldn’t put on a show, marry the girl, keep everything unsavory private and locked away.” He snorted; the ghost of a derisive sort of chuckle. “Selfish, I suppose, not wanting to spend my entire life screaming on the inside.”

“What happened?” Tam asked, moving closer but fighting the unreasonable urge to hug Dorian until the line between his eyebrows eased.

“He was going to do a blood ritual. Alter my mind. Make me… acceptable.” Dorian’s lip curled, his sneer audible as well as visual. “I found out. I left.”

“Can blood magic really do that?” Tam asked in disbelief. There was much he didn’t know about magic, but the idea that such a thing could potentially be done was a shocking concept to try to comprehend.

“Maybe. It could also have left me a drooling vegetable,” Dorian said, struggling to pretend to be light-hearted and failing utterly at it. “It crushed me to think he found that absurd risk preferable to scandal. Part of me has always hoped he didn’t really want to go through with it. If he had… I can’t imagine the person I would be now.” Dorian uncrossed his arms and looked down at his empty hands. “I wouldn’t like that Dorian.”

“Is it really such a big concern in Tevinter?” Tam asked, taken aback. “It’s… it’s such a problem to others that they would really go to such lengths to… to correct it?”

Dorian briefly met Tam’s eyes, the depth of sadness they held making Tam’s breath catch painfully. “Only if you’re trying to live up to an impossible standard,” Dorian explained. “Every Tevinter family is intermarrying to distill the perfect mage, perfect body, perfect mind: The perfect leader.” He sighed heavily and looked down at his hands once again. “It means every perceived flaw - every aberration - is deviant and shameful. It must be hidden.”

“Or removed completely,” Tam finished with a wince. Dorian nodded but said nothing. Tam reached out to take one of Dorian’s hands, offering what little comfort he could give. Dorian’s raised eyebrows made Tam blush faintly, but he didn’t let go.

“Thank you for bringing me out there. It wasn’t what I expected, but… it’s something.” Dorian closed his fingers over Tam’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “My father never understood. Living a lie… it festers inside you like poison. You have to fight for what’s in your heart.”

“How?” Tam asked, searching Dorian’s face for the answer. “How do you fight for something that everyone else says is wrong?”

“By telling them to stick their alarm in their ‘wit’s end’,” Dorian said with the faintest smirk.

Tam was entranced by Dorian’s lips, the way they curved up more on one side than the other. He was so enthralled that he almost wasn’t prepared for it when Dorian leaned down, lips meeting Tam’s and sending a wave of heat and electricity through every inch of his body. Their hands parted and Dorian’s arms curled around Tam’s waist, warm and strong and pulling him in close.

Tam went up on his tiptoes for better reach, pressing even closer to Dorian while one hand stroked the soft, short hair at the nape of Dorian’s neck. Dorian held him tightly, his embrace actually enough to take some of the pressure off of Tam’s feet. There was desperation in their kisses, a deep need that Tam could feel coming from himself as well as being reflected back from Dorian.

Time felt like it stood still, Tam too caught up in the moment to think of anything other than the man he clung to like a lifeline. When Dorian finally pulled back, loosening his hold so that Tam sank back down onto his own two feet, Tam made a small noise of dismay before he could stop himself.

Dorian’s smile was the first thing Tam saw when he opened his eyes. He couldn’t help but smile back. “Have you wanted to do that for as long as I have?” Dorian asked, letting go of Tam completely once Tam was steady on his feet again.

“Maybe. How long have you wanted to do that?” Tam asked, moving to slip his hand into Dorian’s again.

“Since Haven, at least.” Dorian gave his hand a squeeze. “Would you like to get a drink with me? It’s been that sort of day.”

“Then yes,” Tam said. “And again, yes. Gladly. Maybe we could talk more, as well.”

They left the library hand-in-hand. On the level above them, Josephine shifted the papers on her clipboard and made some notes before setting the clipboard aside. Next to her, Leliana leaned on the railing with her chin in her hands. “I told you it would happen when they left, didn’t I, Josie?”

“Partly because I was able to arrange it that they had to take the same mount,” Josephine pointed out.

“That was a good move. I was very proud of you.” Leliana nudged Josephine with her shoulder. “Varric owes us money.”

“I look forward to telling him,” Josephine said with a grin.


	9. Let You In

There was no way to fully avoid prying eyes, but they could try to lessen the gossip slightly by not going straight to Tam’s quarters together. Tam hurried across the main hall and pushed past the door that led to the Inquisitor’s tower, heaving a sigh of relief once he was safely out of sight of those milling around the great hall. After being waylaid by Josephine earlier, Tam had to admit to being a little paranoid.

Realizing he only had a short amount of time before Dorian joined him - knowledge that made his stomach flip - Tam pelted up the stairs to the door that led to his room. He changed quickly out of his armor, trading the thick leather for something more casual. Was that too weird? No, of course he wouldn’t want to sit around in armor, and the idea of changing in front of Dorian was suddenly… Tam blushed, pulling the cinch of his tunic closed. Better to do it ahead of time. There was nothing shameful about being naked, but the idea made him squirm uncomfortably nonetheless.

A knock at the door rescued him from continuing to think about that. “It’s open,” Tam called, walking over to the railing that overlooked the stairs.

Dorian opened the door and glanced around. When he saw Tam, he smiled. “Orlesian brandy is so cheap here, it’s criminal.” He closed the door behind himself, pausing for all of a half-second before he threw the lock.

“Is that a good thing?” Tam asked, watching Dorian as he made his way up the stairs.

“Yes,” Dorian replied with a chuckle. “It makes it far more enjoyable to get smashed when you don’t have to drink something that tastes like piss.” He set two bottles side-by-side on the little side-table next to the sofa, then produced a pair of round-bodied glasses as well.

“I don’t really drink,” Tam demurred, waving his hand to stop Dorian from pouring more than one glass.

Dorian filled both anyway and pressed one into Tam’s hand. “Trust me. It really has been that sort of day. You probably need it whether you realize it or not, and I do so hate drinking alone.”

“All right,” Tam said and took the glass reluctantly.

Dorian sat on the sofa and patted the cushion beside him until Tam sat as well. The sofa was small, which meant their legs touched despite how much Tam tried to scoot to the side. He cradled the glass in his hands, looking down into the amber liquid in order to avoid Dorian’s eyes. “You wanted to talk?” Dorian prompted.

“I did,” Tam agreed. He hesitated, swirling the brandy around in hypnotizing ripples. “I… I’m not sure where to begin.”

“The beginning is usually a good place, I’ve found,” Dorian said after a long drink.

“Aside from Krem guessing not that long ago, I’ve never really told anyone that I like men before,” Tam admitted.

“Or I suppose you could dive in headfirst,” Dorian quipped. “That works, too.”

Tam ducked his head, ears taking a sharp downturn. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no - I should be sorry, not you. You’re the one talking and I ought to know how to keep my mouth shut.” Dorian sighed and refilled his near-empty glass. “Please, continue as if I hadn’t rudely interrupted.”

“It’s… I…” Tam trailed off and ran a hand through his hair in a vain attempt to settle his thoughts. “It’s not that such things are frowned upon by my clan, but I heard nothing of people like me while I was growing up. I didn’t want to be strange or stand out so I didn’t tell anyone about it. I never even told my parents or my sister. It was my secret to hold.”

“You grew up alone,” Dorian said softly. “Not a single confidant?”

“I had friends as a child, but we all started going our separate ways around the same time I realized that the way I am wasn’t going to change. I think Artemis would have understood, but she would have told Lupa, too, even if it was by accident. I don’t know how he would have taken it. And I don’t know if it would have stayed contained or if it would have spread through the clan in the span of a blink.” Tam shook his head. “It was… it was safer, keeping it to myself.”

“That must have been difficult to bear,” Dorian said. When Tam glanced up at him, he saw a faraway, sadly thoughtful look on Dorian’s face.

“It wasn’t too hard,” Tam said after taking a drink of the brandy. It burned, making him cough, but he cleared his throat and continued. “As you might have noticed, I’m not really good at anything in particular. The only thing I seem to have a bit of real skill in is being invisible.” Tam offered a faint, self-deprecating smile. “Sometimes shemlen travel a little too close to our camps, or we pass through areas where they’ve been recently. When that happens, I go with the scouts to check out the area. Or, I did, back then - before all this. I was always good at avoiding detection and being generally unmemorable.”

“With your hair?” Dorian asked incredulously, reaching up to ruffle the bright, gingery strands with the tips of his fingers. “Though even without taking that into consideration, you are anything but forgettable.”

Tam blushed and ducked his head. Thankfully, Dorian got the message and took his hand back. “I was glad to be forgettable. I never really had a set place in the Clan: Sometimes I worked with the hunters or the scouts, or sometimes I stayed behind with the menders or assisted with cooking. Most often I helped to fetch things or act as a stabilizing pair of hands for the various artisans of the Clan. I helped those who had some real skill to offer.”

“So it sounds like your skill lies more in people than in a tangible craft,” Dorian said, gesturing with his glass.

“I don’t really have a skill,” Tam insisted. “But because of that, I was able to move around the Clan instead of always being with the same people. If I was around the same people day in and day out, they would learn to read me. They would find me out.”

“Letting someone in can be a good thing,” Dorian pointed out. “And I’m honored that you chose to tell me this about yourself.” When Tam still didn’t look up, Dorian hooked a gentle finger beneath Tam’s chin and tipped his head up to look him in the eye. “You’ve spent all this time around the same people, and if they’ve found out - which clearly at least one of them has - they obviously don’t care what your preference is. I most certainly care what your preference is, but I have a bit of a vested interest.”

Tam blushed, but before he could think too hard about the concept of everyone at Skyhold knowing his until-now deepest secret, all coherent thoughts were effectively erased by the sudden warmth of Dorian’s lips on his. It was an unexpected kiss, but a welcome one. Tam barely had enough sense to keep his drink steady, holding it in one hand while his other hand moved up to rest against Dorian’s chest.

It was Dorian who pulled away first, running the pad of his thumb over Tam’s bottom lip before letting go. “Maker, but you’re beautiful,” he murmured.

Tam was fairly certain his face was the same color as his hair. He hid himself behind the glass, taking a larger gulp than intended of the burning liquid within it. Coughing meant he didn’t have to find the words to reply to Dorian, at least.

“Careful, now; you enjoy it more if you drink it, not inhale it.” Dorian gave Tam a strong pat on the back, nearly bowling him over in the process. While Tam recovered, Dorian stroked his back soothingly. “I apologize. Had I known I would cause that reaction… well, let’s be honest, I still probably would have said it without thinking.”

“It’s all right,” Tam said, keeping his arms tight to his sides and clutching his glass.

“It’s quite clearly _not_ all right,” Dorian corrected, “but I don’t wish to argue with you about it. Why don’t you tell me something else? For example, you’ve met my pitiful excuse for a father. What are your parents like?”

Grateful for the change of subject, Tam chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. “Well, my father is a hunter. My mother is a woodshaper - a blacksmith of sorts. I never had the creativity for my mother’s line of work, but I’m pretty sure my father always hoped I would show promise as a hunter. My sister began as a scout but moved on to being more of a defender of the Clan and the halla.”

“The halla - you mean those deer things with the fancy antlers, right?” Dorian asked, draining the last of his brandy.

“Er… yes,” Tam said. “A creative way to describe them, but yes.”

“Interesting. So your sister is some sort of guardian?”

“Halla are fully capable of defending themselves,” Tam explained. Dorian poured himself another glass, but Tam’s still looked almost untouched. “Lasani and her partner are experts in… deterrence. And it was decided that if shemlen can be kept away from our camp that way, so much the better.”

“There’s that word again,” Dorian said. “I may regret asking this, but what are the ‘shemlen’ you keep referring to?”

Tam took a drink in a vain attempt to hide his flush of shame. “Shemlen is… well, it’s used to refer to humans,” he finally said. “It’s not the kindest term, though it isn’t _completely_ insulting, either. It's still rude and I apologize - I shouldn’t use it.”

“Oh believe me, I’m certain I’ve been called worse things,” Dorian said with a laugh, reassuring in strange sort of way.

“Still, it’s a habit I ought to break,” Tam protested. “I’m the Inquisitor. Everyone’s eyes are on me now.” He paused for a moment before his face fell. “Oh, Creators. They really are, too.” He put the glass to his lips again and gulped down the majority of the liquid.

“Slow down,” Dorian said, putting a hand on Tam’s forearm and easing the glass down. “You said yourself that you don’t drink - the last thing you want is to drink too fast and have it all go right to your head. Are you really that uncomfortable?”

“I hate being the center of attention,” Tam admitted, curling in on himself as if to ward off unseen attacks. “I’m… I’m not good at speaking in front of people, or making decisions, or really anything that’s being asked of me as Inquisitor. I really am a pitiful choice - I’m just waiting for Leliana and Cassandra to realize that and find a way to quietly get rid of me.”

“Nonsense,” Dorian scoffed, taking the glass out of Tam’s hand and setting it next to the nearly-empty bottle on the side table. “You’re a wonderful choice. For example, since you’re wary of making decisions, you’re more inclined to listen to all the facts before ruling one way or the other. You listen fairly to all parties and you give the matter considerable thought. Also, you have three strong advisors willing to give you their advice whenever you need it.” He slid off the couch, turning so that he knelt on the carpet in front of Tam’s tightly clenched knees. “As for the bit about public speaking - you’re much better at it than you think. Your hesitations sound deliberate, and the casual observer would never notice the way your ears tilt back and pin flat against your head when you’re anxious.”

Tam groaned and reached up to cover the tips of his ears with his hands. “Oh, Mythal’s mercy…”

Dorian gripped both of Tam’s wrists and, once again, gently eased his arms down to his lap. “I doubt many people are aware of that little fact. I only realized it after I began watching you more closely, and even then I can’t quite interpret everything yet. But someday I think I’d like to, if you’ll give me the chance.”

“Dorian…” Tam felt warm all over; whether it was from Dorian’s words or from the alcohol, he wasn’t sure. He smiled and leaned down, Dorian meeting him halfway in another kiss. Dorian tasted like the brandy only so much better.

“Now, why don’t you tell me more about your Clan, and if you really want me to I’ll tell you a bit more about Tevinter?” Dorian sat more comfortably, resting his arms on Tam’s knees and looking up at him with a warm smile. “We have another bottle and as much time as we want.”

***

The sun was rising by the time Tam finally gave in to sleep, curled comfortably in Dorian’s arms in the middle of the massive bed. Dorian wasn’t quite sure where the night had gone, but chalked it up as a success even if they were both still fully clothed. There had been a point where things may have gone otherwise, but for all his faults, Dorian wasn’t going to take advantage of someone who was as inebriated as Tamvir had been when he was fumbling with the buckles that rested over Dorian’s chest.

He had meant what he’d said: They had as much time as they wanted. Or at least as much time as Dorian could manage to take things so slow and chaste - but even then, he would never push things past Tam’s level of consent.

Dorian moved away in order to draw the curtains around the bed, eliciting a soft, unhappy noise from Tam. Dorian smiled and adjusted the heavy drapes to block out the rest of the offending daylight before returning to the Inquisitor’s side, pulling him close against his chest. For now - it was good.


	10. Dance Lessons

The Inquisitor’s work was never done. Tam had barely returned to Skyhold, bringing the surviving Wardens from Adamant Fortress along with him, when Josephine pounced on him. Word had come from Orlais about a Grand Ball at the Winter Palace, and Tam’s presence had been requested. It was, according to Josephine and Leliana, of utmost importance that he and the Advisers of the Inquisition attend. Unfortunately, Orlesian dancing was nothing like the Dalish dancing Tam was familiar with: which meant lessons.

“Better!” Josephine said as Tam raised her carefully from a low dip. “Your waltz is passable, and your allemande is tolerable, though I wish we had just one more week to work on your galliard. Your timing is a little bit off, and your form is…” She trailed off and gave Tam a quick smile. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. I’m proud of how hard you have worked this past week. I know it has not been easy for you.”

“You’re a good teacher,” Tam said. “I’ve never been much of a dancer, so of course I have to pay as much attention as possible. A couple of friends tried to teach me when we were children, but I was never able to keep up.”

“Thank you, but I will not take credit for your accomplishment.” Josephine curtsied, and Tam hastily bowed in response. “I’ll let you return to your other studies. Are you still reading about Inquisitor Ameridan?”

“Yes, I am. Anything that may help me better lead the Inquisition,” Tam said. “Thank you for your time, Josephine.”

“My pleasure, Tamvir. Have a lovely evening. If we have time for another lesson prior to departing for the Winter Palace, I will make sure to add it to your schedule.” Josephine picked up her clipboard and left Tam’s quarters, the door closing with a hollow sound behind her.

Tam walked to his desk, the fading dusk outside the windows prompting him to light a candle. Reading what history there was about Inquisitor Ameridan was slow going, and much of the information Tam had been able to find was completely contradictory. He opened the current book to his marked place, proceeding to stare sightlessly at the elegant script for a few minutes before closing the book with an audible thud.

“Still the adventures of Inquisitor Ameridan?” Dorian asked, making Tam jump so hard that he nearly overturned his chair. “Sorry. Didn’t hear me come in?”

“N-no,” Tam said, trying to catch his breath. “I didn’t. Hello.”

“Good evening.” Dorian’s smile was infectious. “Josephine says your dancing is much improved.” He stepped into the center of the room and bowed gallantly, offering his hand to Tam. “So - may I have this dance?”

“I’ll probably step on your feet,” Tam warned, but he joined Dorian in the middle of the room and accepted his hand.

“I think I’ll survive.” Dorian pulled Tam in close and took the lead.

Josephine had only been teaching Tam to lead, not follow. To suddenly have to follow was difficult, and Tam quickly lived up to his threat of stepping on toes. “Sorry!” Tam exclaimed, putting some space between them and looking down at their feet to try to avoid it happening again.

“Don’t look down,” Dorian said. “Just look at me. Trust me.” He tugged Tam in close against his chest again, preventing him from being able to watch their feet.

“I do trust you,” Tam said, trying to keep up. “That doesn’t make this any easier!”

“I does usually help a little to trust your partner,” Dorian said. As Tam began to relax, the dance slowly shifted away from the steps Tam had learned and more toward a sort of gentle swaying instead.

“I’m still surprised sometimes that you actually trust me,” Dorian said after a while, “considering the fact that I am not a nice man.”

“What do you mean?” Tam asked, hooking his arms around the back of Dorian’s neck and rising up on tiptoe in order to brush a kiss against the line of his jaw. Being a full head shorter meant such displays of affection were difficult for Tam unless Dorian came down closer to his level.

“I mean that it’s all very nice, this flirting business, but I propose that it’s time we move on to something more… primal.” One of Dorian’s hands dipped low, palming Tam’s ass and giving it a squeeze.

Tam’s face was immediately as red as his hair, but Dorian didn’t let up. “It’ll set tongues wagging, of course,” Dorian continued. “Not that they aren’t already. But I suppose it really depends.” Dorian leaned down so that he could speak directly into Tam’s ear, so close that his lips brushed against it as they moved. “How bad does the Inquisitor want to be?”

Tam shivered, his grip on Dorian tightening as his knees threatened to buckle. “I,” he gasped, words evaporating like mist before the sun. He pushed away from Dorian, trying to gather his scattered wits. “Don’t you think we’re moving a little bit too quickly?” he finally asked.

“Quickly?” Dorian repeated, his eyebrows shooting up toward his hairline. “By my standards, we’ve been positively chaste.”

“It just seems a little sudden,” Tam said, his ears burning red. “It’s not that I don’t want… I mean, I just…”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand. What is it that you want, exactly?” Dorian asked. “A relationship?”

“I thought that’s what this was,” Tam admitted, his ears drooping with a sudden flush of shame. “Is that… bad?”

It was Dorian’s turn to look away. He let go of Tam, pacing away to Tam’s desk and picking up one of the books on the previous Inquisition. “Where I come from,” he said after a long pause, “anything between men… it’s physical. It doesn’t go beyond that. It’s not that you don’t care, you just… don’t hope for more.”

“I’ve never really heard it mentioned by my own people,” Tam said, twisting his hands in front of him. “But everything I’ve seen here, ever since the Conclave - why should it be treated any differently than any other kind of relationship? I’m not going to just stop having feelings for you… I mean…” Tam faltered, rubbing one hand awkwardly over his opposite arm. “Maybe I shouldn’t say that. I didn’t know that this was only a physical thing for you.”

“That’s not at all what I meant,” Dorian said, dropping the book back onto the desk and returning to Tam’s side. “The things you say… you speak what you feel, like they’re so simple. But they are things with which I have no examples to compare.”

“Then let us be that example for you,” Tam said, taking both of Dorian’s hands in his. “I don’t want this to be… to be nothing. I want it to mean something.”

“You are a remarkably bizarre creature,” Dorian said wonderingly. He squeezed Tam’s hands and drew him in close again. “Fine. Have it your way.”

Tam wrapped his arms around Dorian, holding onto him tightly. Dorian smelled like old books and leather, with a hint of fancy perfumed soap and the wax he used for his mustache. It was a comforting smell.

“You do realize, of course,” Dorian murmured into Tam’s hair, “I am not leaving your quarters empty handed. It’s a matter of pride.”

“Empty handed?” Tam echoed. “How are you leaving empty handed?”

Dorian chuckled. “Adorable,” he said softly, then leaned down to kiss Tam. There was nothing chaste about the kiss: lips and tongues meeting, the taste of Dorian almost as comfortingly familiar as his scent; hands that stroked down Tam’s back and cupped his ass with strong, kneading fingers; the two of them pressed so close together that Tam could feel no less than three of Dorian’s various buckles digging into his chest.

Maybe there was some sort of silent signal, or maybe they both had the same thought at the same moment - Tam lacked the coherency to question it. He curled his arms around the back of Dorian’s neck and jumped while at the same time Dorian lifted him up, allowing Tam to hook his legs around Dorian’s waist as Dorian’s hands remained under his ass for support. It put them at almost the same height, giving Tam a whole new angle and also relieving the pressure from the buckles on Dorian’s clothing. Instead, it introduced Tam to an entirely different pressure between Dorian’s legs - one that coincided with the very same biological reaction in Tam.

Tam gasped when the two brushed, and he buried his face in Dorian’s shoulder. “Dorian,” Tam begged, the sound of his own voice foreign to his ears.

“You make it awfully difficult for me to honor your request,” Dorian said, the words strained. He slowly released Tam, helping him get his feet back on the floor before letting him go and taking a step back.

Dorian gave Tam a strained smile but said nothing more, turning quickly and heading down the stairs that led out of the Inquisitor’s quarters. Breathless, his chest heaving with the need for more air, Tam could only watch Dorian leave with the sinking feeling that he’d somehow made the wrong decision.


	11. Enthusiasm

For the third time during the same meeting, Josephine’s words fell on deaf ears. It wasn’t hard to tell - Tam’s eyes would glaze over and he would stand over the war table unmoving, staring down at the pieces that represented bits of the Inquisition’s forces. Josephine sighed and shared a knowing glance with Leliana. Cullen rubbed an exasperated hand over his face, but carefully hid a grin.

“Tamvir,” Josephine said loudly, to no response.

Leliana stifled a chuckle behind her fist before leaning over the table and snapping her fingers under Tam’s nose. “Tamvir!”

Tam stumbled backwards, startled. When he saw all three of them watching him, he blushed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I-I’m so sorry. Did I do it again? I… didn’t sleep very well,” he admitted sheepishly. “Where were we?”

“We will be leaving for the Winter Palace tomorrow,” Josephine said, repeating part of what she had tried to tell him before. “Make sure you are fully packed and ready - and rested,” she added pointedly. “If you have any unfinished business, I recommend trying to wrap it up before we leave.”

“You do not want to be this distracted at the Winter Palace, Tamvir,” Leliana warned. “Scout Trevelyan’s report says things are very volatile. You can’t afford to be unfocused.”

“Thank you,” Tam said, rubbing his arm and avoiding Leliana’s piercing gaze. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Unless there’s any other business, I need to update Rylen on what needs to be handled in my absence.” Cullen looked to Josephine and Leliana, who shook their heads.

“Until tomorrow morning, then,” Josephine said with a smile.

Tam filed out with them, keeping his head down. His ears still burned, their points pulled in tight against the sides of his head in his shame. He hadn’t slept well, it was true, but that was not the cause of his preoccupation. It had been two days since he’d last seen Dorian in more than just passing. Two days since that proposal, his - probably stupid, in hindsight - request, and then… that kiss.

Tam’s mind kept supplying him with additional images, an unhelpful montage of what might have been and what could potentially be if he only found the courage to ask. But after just asking for things to slow down, Tam felt like he couldn’t turn around and speed them back up so suddenly. Could he?

He passed by Solas like a sleepwalker, his feet finding the familiar path up to the library before his brain caught up with him. It may be hypocritical of him, telling Dorian one thing only to change his mind again so quickly, but that was just something Tam was going to have to deal with. Seeing Dorian leaned over a table, poring through some dusty old book, made Tam was suddenly more alert and energized than he’d been through the entire past two days. It also made up his mind.

Tam walked up behind Dorian and slid his arms around Dorian’s waist. He felt the other man jump, but Dorian turned in Tam’s arms to face him with a chuckle. “Hello, Tam,” he said.

“Dorian,” Tam replied, hands coming up as if of their own volition to seize the straps of Dorian’s shirt and bodily drag him down into a kiss. Dorian made a muffled grunt of surprise, and below them Tam distantly heard a noise of disgust from Solas. “Come with me?” Tam requested breathlessly when they parted, Dorian wearing a bemused smile.

“Gladly,” Dorian said, taking Tam’s hand and leading him to the alternate stairway down to the Great Hall rather than interrupting Solas again. The place was mostly deserted, not that Tam would have cared if it were otherwise. His mind was fully made up and far too preoccupied with other thoughts to spare a care for whoever might see them.

It was Tam who led the way to the Inquisitor’s tower and up to the stairs to his room, and Tam who unlocked the door to his quarters and drew Dorian inside. It was also, surprisingly, Tam who turned around immediately to shove Dorian back against the door, at the same time pulling him down to claim Dorian’s mouth with his own once again. He could feel Dorian’s initial surprise, as well as the way it quickly melted beneath the heat that they generated.

Dorian pushed back on Tam, forcing him away from the door. Dorian’s hands found Tam’s ass as they had before, and it took little prompting for Tam to once again hop up and wrap his legs around Dorian’s waist. Dorian grinned against Tam’s mouth, hitching him up a little higher before ascending the stairs.

The sofa was closer than the bed. Dorian perched on the edge, allowing Tam to shift to a better position on his lap before Dorian sat back comfortably. Tam being in Dorian’s lap was short-lived, however. When Tam broke the kiss and slid off the couch, it drew a small, curious noise of surprise from Dorian. Kneeling in from of Dorian, between his legs, Tam rested his hands on Dorian’s knees and looked up into his eyes.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Tam admitted, cheeks reddening beneath the mark of his vallaslin. “Would it… would it be all right with you if I try?”

“Of course. And I’ll tell you right now, you’re already doing better than you probably think,” Dorian said, brushing Tam’s gingery forelock out of his face. “Maker. What a sight you are.”

Tam looked away, down at the buckles that now stood in his way, and licked his lips nervously. “You and buckles,” he said, reaching for the first one. “It’s almost like you’re making this difficult on purpose.”

“Need a hand?” Dorian offered, amused.

“No,” Tam said stubbornly, releasing the catch on the first belt and moving on to the next. Between unclasping belts and undoing lacings, Tam was finally able to meet his goal. With a triumphant grunt, Tam freed Dorian’s cock from the confines of his trousers. He ran his hand lightly down the length of it, marveling at how it stiffened under his touch.

Above Tam, Dorian gasped at the gentle attention, the way Tam’s fingers brushed over his skin in what seemed like an effort to touch every bit of it. “Well?” Dorian finally asked. “Do you like it?”

“Very much,” Tam said, meeting Dorian’s eyes briefly before his attention flicked downward once again. Tam wrapped his hand around Dorian’s cock, a little bit of pressure helping him roll back the protective layer of foreskin. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the exposed tip, enjoying the little thrill of a shiver that ran through Dorian. It spurred Tam further and he licked his lips again, parting them so he could tentatively take the head of Dorian’s cock into his mouth.

Dorian let out a shuddering sigh, finding a handful of Tam’s hair and twining his fingers through it while trying to force himself to be as gentle as possible. Tam took it as the encouragement that it was, rising higher on his knees to get a better angle so he could take more. What he lacked in technique he made up for in enthusiasm, his hand applying pressure and stimulation to the base while his lips and tongue attended to everything they could reach.

He was perhaps a little over-enthusiastic, trying to do too much at once. Dorian’s cock hit the back of Tam’s throat, making Tam sputter and cough. He pulled back a safe distance and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

“Easy, amatus,” Dorian said, the pad of his thumb wiping away the reactionary tears that the coughing fit left at the corner of Tam’s eye. “You’re doing just fine - no need to push yourself too hard.”

“I’m all right,” Tam insisted. “I didn’t know that would happen is all.”

“Well, I certainly don’t mind you using me to learn.” Dorian grinned, his face flushed. “Just try not to hurt yourself. Please.”

“You have my word,” Tam said, nuzzling his face into Dorian’s hand.

Dorian threaded his fingers through Tam’s hair once more and a groan of pleasure escaped his lips as Tam went down on him again. “Amatus,” he breathed, tasting the word on his tongue and finding it to his liking.

Tam went easier, his excitement unchanged but under better control. He was thinking again, remembering the things he always enjoyed when he was alone with his own hand. He sucked at the tip, varying pressure as his tongue flicked over the slit and tasted salt. Tam looked up at Dorian just as Dorian’s eyes reopened, and Tam grinned around the cock in his mouth.

Tam enjoyed watching the blush that bloomed across Dorian’s cheeks, feeling the deep shudder that ran through Dorian’s body and made his cock twitch. Tam’s answered in turn, straining insistently against the confining leather of his breeches. There was a heady sort of glee that came with Tam’s actions. His ears, flared wide from the sides of his head, caught every hitched breath; every little moan; when Dorian gasped that foreign word again, his voice warm but with and edge of desperation.

Dorian clenched both hands in Tam’s hair, fingers grazing the edges of his ears and sending a whipcrack of electricity arcing through Tam’s entire body. Tam gasped and made a plaintive noise, his hips rocking involuntarily against empty air. Dorian thrust shallowly into Tam’s mouth, trembling from the exertion it took to keep himself that much under control.

“Ah - shit - Tamvir-!” was all the warning Tam got before Dorian came. Startled, Tam sputtered and coughed and pulled back out of Dorian’s grip. The majority of the hot liquid hit Tam in the face instead, an opaque splatter joining the freckles that dusted his nose and cheeks.

Tam sat back on his heels, panting almost as hard as Dorian was. Dorian watched him through heavy-lidded eyes, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Now that,” Dorian said, his voice rasping. He cleared his throat. “Now _that_ is an incredible view.”

Tam blushed, suddenly conscious of the position he was in and exactly what they had just done. There were no regrets, but it was still a lot to process. “I…” he began, but trailed off and glanced down.

“...Are amazing in every way,” Dorian finished for him. “Don’t you dare allow yourself to think any less than that.”

“But I-“

“Stop.” Dorian took Tam’s hands, gently pulling him up to straddle Dorian’s knee. He pulled a handkerchief from one of his pockets, but paused to take a long, almost smug look at Tam’s face before starting to wipe it clean. “It’s a good look on you,” he said with a chuckle. “But we wouldn’t want it to get sticky. That would be something of a mess.”

Tam closed one eye as Dorian cleared away the drip above it. “It wasn’t bad, then?”

“Bad?” Dorian exclaimed, startled. “Vishante kaffas, Tam. There are many words I could use to describe what we just did, but ‘bad’ is not remotely one of them!” Dorian deposited the dirty piece of linen on the side table before sliding his fingers through Tam’s hair and guiding him down into a kiss.

“I’m glad,” Tam murmured against his lips. Tam felt it when Dorian suddenly grinned, his mustache tickling Tam’s cheeks. Before Tam could ask what was so amusing, Dorian delicately traced the tip of one finger down Tam’s ear, from point to lobe.

Tam gasped, his eyes squeezing shut as he grabbed a double handful of Dorian’s shirt - buckles and all. The shudder rippled through Tam like an earthquake and he squirmed, causing just enough friction against his trapped cock to turn his breath ragged and drag a needy whimper out of him. “Dorian,” Tam begged.

Dorian obliged, loosening the laces of Tam’s trousers one-handed. When Dorian’s hand wrapped around Tam’s cock, it created a strange, heady mix of profound relief and desperate tension. Tam’s toes curled in his boots as Dorian stroked his cock, hips bucking up into strong, experienced fingers.

Tam came suddenly and explosively, unable to make any sound other than a sharp gasp. He clung to Dorian, riding out the waves with stuttering breaths. Dorian combed his free hand through Tam’s hair in a soothing gesture. When Tam was finally able to inhale without his breath catching, Dorian chuckled softly.

“Well, that was powerful,” Dorian commented, carefully retrieving the previously soiled handkerchief to wipe his hand clean. He returned quickly to a fully upright position, taking his role as Tam’s support structure very seriously.

Tam pushed back from Dorian suddenly, looking down at the remaining mess between them. “Your clothes!” he exclaimed, ears taking a sharp downturn. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to-“

Dorian silenced him with a kiss, pulling Tam in close against his chest. “You worry too much and you really need to stop apologizing, amatus. But if you like, we could always remove clothes from the equation entirely.”

“There’s that word again,” Tam said, derailing the subject. “What does it mean? You said it before, as well.”

“Which word? Amatus?” Dorian asked, surprised as if he hadn’t expected Tam to notice the unfamiliar word. “It’s Tevene. Of course it’s Tevene,” he muttered under his breath. His shook his head slightly. “It’s… a term of affection. I will stop if it bothers you.”

“No, I like it,” Tam said, getting his feet under him and standing up. He stepped back from Dorian and stripped out of his boots and trousers, causing Dorian’s eyebrows to ascend nearly to his hair line. “What?” Tam asked. “You’re the one who suggested getting rid of clothes.”

“Sometimes I forget that there are things you aren’t shy about.” Dorian stood and began shedding layers as well. He was far defter at removing the buckles he wore, being more familiar with how they all worked together. Dorian kicked away his trousers just as Tam tossed aside his undershirt, leaving them both without a stitch.

“You have freckles,” Dorian commented with a smile, closing the gap between them and leaning down to kiss one of Tam’s shoulders.

“You have… hair,” Tam said, considerably more surprised. He stroked the dark patch of hair on Dorian’s chest and grinned up at him. “That’s something of a novelty.”

Dorian sniffed. “I take great pains in my personal grooming. You’d be shocked at how much work it takes to look this good.”

“I like it,” Tam said, one fingertip following the thin, dark line down Dorian’s stomach.

“I’m glad to hear it - clearly you have excellent taste.” Dorian caught Tam’s wrist before his hand could dip any lower. He bent and scooped Tam up, ignoring Tam’s indignant squeak as Dorian hauled him over one shoulder. “As do I. Now, whatever shall I do with you?” Dorian asked, mock-thoughtful as he carried Tam over to the massive four-poster bed.

“Whatever you like,” Tam said, unperturbed once he got settled. “I have the best view.”

Dorian patted Tam’s ass. “I disagree. But I also have a better idea.” He swung Tam down, dropping him lightly onto the mattress with a grin. “If you’re up for it, that is.”

“I suppose that depends on what you’re alluding to,” Tam said with a grin of his own. “If you mean what I think you mean, then I’m going to need at least a bit longer to recover, first.” He reached for Dorian’s hand, twining their fingers together.

Dorian took the hint and climbed onto the bed beside him. “It’s only right,” he agreed. “And thank you for saying that. I’m glad you know your limits - and that you aren’t afraid to tell me when you reach them. Otherwise I’d have to worry that I was pushing you too far.”

“You stopped when I asked before,” Tam pointed out. “I know you didn’t want to, but you did it for my sake anyhow. You would never force me into anything.” Tam stretched out on his side and Dorian moved to mirror him, untangling their joined hands in order to cup Tam’s cheek instead.

“You are unlike anyone I’ve ever known,” Dorian said, feathering his thumb over the branching marks that decorated Tam’s cheekbones. “How is it that can you trust me so completely?”

“You’ve never given me a reason not to,” Tam said simply, walking his fingers down the fine line of hair over Dorian’s abdomen. The line thickened the farther down he went, eventually leading to the carefully groomed black curls at the base of Dorian’s cock.

Dorian sucked in a breath at Tam’s curious explorations. “Oh, wonderful,” he said sarcastically, though a smile curved the corner of his mouth and softened his words. “Sweeter than honey but also a tease.”

“How am I a tease?” Tam asked, his hand stilling. At Dorian’s pointedly raised eyebrow, Tam glanced back down to where Dorian’s cock stirred. “Oh.”

“I have an idea, actually,” Dorian said.

“Another one?”

“Yes.” Dorian removed his hand from Tam’s cheek and gave his fingers an experimental little wiggle. “I’m no healer, but I do know a simple recovery spell; something suitable for keeping one awake during long periods of study, or to assist on the battlefield if someone is flagging. Not that I’m not willing to wait for you, of course, but if you were feeling at all impatient…”

“Do it,” Tam said, leaning in to kiss Dorian.

Tam could see the colorful, sparkling flare of Dorian’s magic even with his eyes shut. The effects weren’t immediately obvious, but as soon as Tam moved, he noticed. It felt like he had just had a good stretch, subtly rejuvenating. It also felt familiar. “You’ve used this on me before, haven’t you?” Tam asked quizzically, pulling back to look at Dorian.

“Only in the middle of battle when you’ve seemed to need it,” Dorian said. “Just one of the little things I do to help keep you alive and whole.”

“I’m glad you do,” Tam said. “It helps me be able to keep them off you, in return.” He smiled and his fingers resumed their movement, traveling the soft length of Dorian’s cock before wrapping around it fully and giving it a quick stroke.

Dorian gasped and Tam caught the sound, his mouth covering Dorian’s. When they parted again, Dorian gave Tam a wide-eyed look.

“That was… entirely unexpected,” Dorian finally said, expression melting into a grin. “Have I created a monster?”

“Was it wrong?” Tam asked quickly, a blush spreading over his face. “I’m sorry. I did it without thinking. I won’t - mm…” Dorian cut him off mid-sentence with another kiss, running his fingers through Tam’s hair and then skimming along his ear.

Tam whimpered into the kiss, burrowing in closer to Dorian. Dorian let himself get pushed onto his back, Tam following the movement so that he ended up on his hands and knees over Dorian, continuing to kiss him while a smoldering need kindled deep in his belly.

Tam straddled Dorian properly, resting flush against his hips and sitting up to look down at him. He could feel the way Dorian’s cock stiffened, twitching against the flesh of Tam’s ass.

“This one,” Dorian said, his voice low and carrying heat that surged through Tam’s veins. “This is my favorite view I’ve had the privilege of seeing tonight.”

Tam blushed again, the color spreading so far as to touch his shoulders. He leaned forward enough to splay his hands against Dorian’s chest, looking deep into his eyes. “It’s nice,” Tam agreed, his voice catching in his throat and coming out hoarse.

Dorian rolled his hips, the tip of his hardened cock running up the crack of Tam’s ass and leaving a moist trail of precum. “Sadly, we’ll want to wait for a slightly more advanced class for this one. You’ll be far more comfortable for your first time if _you’re_ the one on your back, instead.” Dorian’s hands gripped Tam’s waist and he rocked teasingly against him again, showing no sign of letting go.

Tam pressed back against Dorian, enjoying the feel of Dorian’s unmistakable need and the way his eyes fluttered shut each time he moved to do it again, slow and meticulously gentle despite the fact that they weren’t yet joined.

“I thought you wanted to change position?” Tam finally asked, his cock hard and aching as it bobbed in time with Dorian’s empty thrusts.

“Want has nothing to do with that - and yet, _everything_ to do with it, I suppose.” Dorian sighed, reluctantly helping Tam slide off him so that he could get up.

“Where are you going?” Tam asked, his ears flattening in sudden alarm.

“To get something we’re going to want, amatus,” Dorian said, leaning down to give Tam a reassuring kiss. “Lie back. I’ll only be a moment.”

Tam did as he was bidden, finding a comfortable spot in the center of the bed and lying down. He watched Dorian go over to their abandoned clothing and then rummage in one of the pouches on his belt. He seemed to find what he wanted rather quickly, palming it and coming back to the bed.

“What did you need?” Tam asked, craning his neck to get a look at what Dorian held.

“This,” Dorian replied, climbing up next to Tam and holding a small glass bottle where Tam could see it.

“But what is it?”

“Just something that makes an excellent lubricant - and trust me, amatus, that’s something we both want very much. Never let anyone ever tell you otherwise.” Dorian nudged Tam’s legs apart, keeping his knees bent, and sat between them. “You’re still sure about this?” he asked suddenly, a spark of uncertainty in his expression. “No second thoughts?”

“I’m sure, Dorian,” Tam said. “Absolutely sure. I… I want you. More than anything.”

Dorian opened the bottle and poured a generous amount of the oil into his hand. As Dorian stroked his hand over his cock, leaving it glistening, the smell of the oil - soothing and herbal with a hinted undercurrent of something spicy - made Tam push himself up on his elbows.

“That’s-“ Tam began, surprised.

“Dalish warming balm. I know.” Dorian smiled. “Rather fitting, isn’t it?” He rubbed one slick finger against the ring of muscle that guarded the entrance of Tam’s ass, letting the oil begin warming pleasantly on his skin.

With great care and watching Tam’s face intently, Dorian slid his finger into Tam. He took it slow, an easy in and out with first one, then a carefully-inserted two fingers. Dorian listened to the way Tam breathed, the soft noises he made. When Tam began to squirm impatiently, his voice taking on an edge of pleading, Dorian removed his fingers entirely.

“Dorian?” Tam asked, looking up at him with slitted eyes. His skin was flushed, a thin sheen of sweat just beginning to form on his brow.

“No second thoughts?” Dorian asked huskily.

“None. Vhenan, _please_ ,” Tam begged, hands twisting in the down comforter. 

“Breathe,” Dorian said, positioning himself so that the head of his cock touched Tam’s hole. He waited, showing more restraint than even he thought he had, until Tam took a deep breath and let it out. Only then did Dorian carefully push into him.

As Dorian expected, Tam gasped and seized up, his body shuddering and then going rigid. “Breathe, Tam,” Dorian instructed again, the words carefully pronounced through gritted teeth. “You need to relax, and to do that you must breathe.”

Tam took a few shallow breaths before he was able to inhale properly, letting it out in a deep shudder. The pressure on Dorian abated, allowing him to pull out completely - much to Tam’s dismay. He didn’t have long to be disappointed, however, as Dorian eased back in again.

Everything went much smoother the second time, but Dorian didn’t try to push things too far or too fast. He was acutely conscious of every move Tam made beneath him, the way his body slowly became accustomed to the position. Dorian waited until Tam breathed almost normally before beginning to move in slow, shallow thrusts. To do so was difficult, but Dorian fought back against the primal desire to simply take what he wanted.

Quicker than Dorian expected, he realized Tam was rolling his hips up to meet him. Little shivery moans fell from Tam’s lips when their bodies came together, the rhythm they built together rising in intensity. Dorian interrupted it briefly in order to pull Tam closer to him, sitting Tam flush against him so that Dorian was buried to the hilt. Dorian’s fingers dug into Tam’s hips, the staccato rhythm of their bodies resuming like it had never paused.

“Tam?” Dorian panted, watching his lover’s face contorted in pleasure but checking on him just in case.

“Dorian!” Tam gasped, fists clenched tightly in the blankets.” I- I..!”

Dorian moved one hand to grasp Tam’s cock, the barest attention causing Tam’s back to arc as every muscle in his body wound up as tight as a new bowstring. When that tension snapped like the figurative string Tam cried out, any words that he may have tried to form lost. Tam’s climax rocked him to his core, dragging Dorian close to the edge along with him.

Rather than risk hurting Tam, Dorian withdrew from him and pumped his cock with his own hand instead. It didn’t take much before Dorian’s toes curled and he uttered a wordless shout of his own, his body trembling as his came.

The room was silent except for their labored breathing, each of them taking the moment to simply enjoy the post-orgasmic haze. After what was only a minute but felt like a small eternity, Dorian groaned and collapsed in an elegantly boneless sprawl beside Tam. With effort, Tam opened his eyes to meet Dorian’s and they both smiled.

“That was…” Tam began hoarsely, pausing to lick dry lips with an equally parched tongue and try to clear his throat. “I don’t think I know words for that,” he finally confessed.

“In a good way, of course,” Dorian clarified, the question implied.

“Better than good,” Tam said. He reached out to comb his fingers through Dorian’s hair, mussed as it was from their activities. Dorian nuzzled into the touch, making Tam chuckle softly. “What a novelty - I can touch the hair,” he teased, curling a lock of it around his finger.

“In this sort of situation, I _suppose_ you’re allowed,” Dorian said, trying to look serious but with a smile in his eyes.

“Oh - so I can do this?” Tam asked delightedly, ruffling Dorian’s hair so that it stuck out at all angles.

“Hey!” Dorian protested, laughing. He grabbed Tam’s wrist, the two of them wrestling until Dorian quite by mistake discovered that Tam was ticklish.

Between helpless giggles, kisses both chaste and anything but, and a highly unexpected round two, neither of them was as well-rested as Josephine had requested for the next morning.


	12. A Moment's Peace

The gates of Skyhold were a promise of sanctuary. Tam’s mount needed no encouragement, clearly just as eager to be home as any of the men and women who had gone to the Winter Palace. Dorian let the hart have its head, the surefooted beast picking its own way quickly along the snowy mountain path. Not having to control the mount allowed Dorian to keep most of his focus on looking after Tam.

The Winter Palace had been a difficult trial for Tam, placing him under the direct scrutiny of the Orlesian court. He had never been the target of so many eyes, rumors, and racial slurs before in his previously sheltered life. From what Dorian had been able to coax out of him, the whole situation had been absolutely miserable for the Dalish Inquisitor.

It had also left him utterly exhausted. Dorian had kept an eye on Tam through the journey back from Halamshiral and had eventually gotten fed up with watching him nearly fall out of the saddle. It was a testament to how wiped out Tam was that he hadn’t even protested when Dorian swung up onto the hart’s back behind him: he had just leaned back against Dorian’s chest and promptly fallen asleep. Dorian didn’t blame him for sleeping. It seemed like everyone was fatigued from the journey and the events at court. Even Dorian himself felt bone-tired.

As they came to a stop outside the Skyhold stables, Dorian gently nudged Tam. “Time to wake up,” he said, kissing the top of Tam’s head. “We’re here.”

Tam murmured something unintelligible and burrowed against Dorian’s chest, showing no intentions of moving from that spot. It was both endearing and exasperating at the same time.

“Don’t make me play dirty, amatus,” Dorian warned, giving Tam another little shake to try to rouse him.

“Why would you have to play dirty?” Tam asked drowsily, reluctantly sitting up under his own power. He heaved a sigh and followed it up with a powerful yawn that he belatedly tried to cover with his hand.

“Because we’re here and I’d very much like to get off the horse,” Dorian said. “There are far more comfortable places for us to be.”

“Oh.” Tam swung his leg over and slid down off the hart to land heavily on the patchy grass. He kept one hand on the hart’s flank for balance and rubbed his bleary eyes with the other, watching Dorian dismount with sleepy appreciation.

Dorian joined Tam on the ground and put his hands on Tam’s shoulders. As the stable hands ran up to assist with the returning force’s mounts, Dorian steered Tam toward the stairs that led up into the keep itself. “I think you might actually be more coherent when you’re drunk,” Dorian teased gently, steadying Tam when he stumbled.

“Inquisitor!” Leliana called after them.

Tam started to turn, but Dorian resolutely kept him pointed in the direction they were already heading. “Go, and don’t let anyone stop you,” Dorian told Tam, leaning down to speak directly into his ear. Tam shivered but nodded, continuing up the stairs and disappearing into the great hall. Dorian was pretty sure that, with luck, Tam should be able to get to his quarters without hurting himself.

“What can I do for you, Lady Leliana?” Dorian asked, turning to face her and giving her his most charming smile.

“I need to speak with the Inquisitor,” Leliana said. Her frown was dangerous, but Dorian was used to danger. “It’s important that we go over what happened at the Winter Palace.”

“It’s very important, I wholly agree.” Dorian crossed his arms, smile vanishing as he met Leliana stare for stare. “However, the Inquisitor is currently indisposed. Unless, of course, you prefer him to be mostly incoherent for your meetings? But it seems remarkably counter-productive and unlikely for the spymaster of the Inquisition to even suggest such a thing, so I’m sure that’s not the case.”

“We could all use some rest, Leliana,” Josephine said, joining Leliana at the foot of the stairs and putting her hand on Leliana’s arm. “Waiting until tomorrow is not likely to do any harm.” Josephine was neat as a pin, as always, but there were dark shadows under her eyes that hinted she was a wrung out as everyone else.

Leliana relented, her aggressive posture relaxing. “Tomorrow, then.”

Dorian sketched a bow before turning on his heel and hurrying after Tam - while trying not to seem like he was in a rush. When he entered the hall, Tam was nowhere to be found. Dorian took that as a good sign that meant Tam probably hadn’t fallen on his face in public, at least. He ignored the whispers that accompanied his brisk walk to the Inquisitor’s tower, shutting them out with the closing of the heavy door.

The stairs that led around the tower and up toward Tam’s quarters contained an unexpected tripping hazard: Tam had clearly begun shedding bits of his gear as soon as he was in private, if the abandoned gloves, belt, and even both of his sheathed daggers were anything to go by. Dorian collected the items and continued into Tam’s room, letting the door swing shut behind him while he picked up the pieces left on the stairs there. Tam’s boots, body armor, and trousers were strewn in a path that led to his enormous bed. Dorian dumped his armload of gear on the sofa and went to the bed to check on the man himself.

It was apparent that Tam had simply stripped out of his clothes and fallen across the bed. He was facedown atop the covers, bare-naked and sound asleep. Dorian smothered a laugh. There was something innocently endearing about the entire situation.

Dorian undressed and pulled the curtains around the bed, shutting out the afternoon sunlight that was relentlessly pouring in through the tall windows. He joined Tam on the bed, shoving him as gently as possible into a position that was more conducive to sharing - as adorable as Tam was, him lying perpendicular across the bed left little room for Dorian. It also made it difficult to use the blankets for their intended purpose.

“Vhenan,” Tam murmured, not opening his eyes but immediately cuddling up to Dorian once he had pulled the covers over them and settled down. Dorian breathed a laugh and kissed his forehead in response.

***

It was dark and the room was eerily still when Tam woke up. He was fuzzy on the details of how exactly he had managed to get back to his room at Skyhold, but waking up in Dorian’s arms was pleasant enough that the ‘how’ wasn’t as important as it may have been otherwise.

From the near-silence and the lack of light trying to sneak through cracks in the curtains, Tam guessed it was still before dawn. He slid out from under Dorian’s arm and crawled to the edge of the bed. Pushing the curtain aside revealed a swath of moonlight pouring in through one bank of windows. Tam felt wide awake and more relaxed than he had since before leaving for the Winter Palace.

He blushed, remembering the night before they’d left Skyhold. It was a fantastic memory, but one that had tormented Tam in Halamshiral when he could do little to nothing about it. Tam had been on his very best behavior through the masquerade ball, terrified of accidentally doing something that would destroy the Inquisition’s reputation. Back in the relative safety of Skyhold, he had none of Josephine’s strongly suggested restrictions to consider.

Tam turned back to look at Dorian, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. Sleep erased the tiny worry lines from his face, leaving him looking innocent and peaceful. It was almost a shame to wake him, but Tam hoped the disturbance would be appreciated.

Tam moved back to his place beside Dorian, gently tracing one finger down the regal line of Dorian’s nose, over his lips and chin, and coming to rest momentarily against his chest. Even if he was determined to see his plan through, he took the small pause as a chance to mentally prepare himself. Tam blushed and licked his lips before letting his hand continue its curious explorations. 

Dorian’s even breathing skipped a beat of its rhythm when Tam’s inquisitive fingers slipped low enough to ghost along the length of Dorian’s cock. The flesh stiffened beneath Tam’s touch, rousing easily despite its owner’s slumber. Tam smiled in spite of his nerves, taking that immediate reaction as the reassurance he needed in order to keep going.

Knowing how much Dorian disliked being cold, as well as knowing how easy it was for him to get chilled, Tam burrowed under the blankets instead of pulling them back. Once there, it wasn’t difficult to prod Dorian into shifting position to lie on his back and give Tam better access to the places he wanted. Before he could change his mind, Tam kissed the soft underside of Dorian’s cock and then drew the tip of it into his mouth.

Dorian’s breath caught again, a sleepy groan escaping his lips. Tam gripped the base of Dorian’s cock with his hand, his tongue pushing back the foreskin to fully expose the head to his teasing. He was acutely aware of the sounds Dorian made, able to pinpoint from just small changes in tone and cadence the exact moment that his lover awakened.

“Fasta vas,” Dorian said breathlessly once his initial disorientation wore off. “I must admit, amatus, this is not a way I’d ever expected to wake up with you.”

Tam released him, wetting his lips again before asking, “Do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t be silly. Of course I don’t want you to stop!” Dorian exclaimed with a laugh. He lifted the blanket to look down at Tam, but dropped it with a bitten-off curse.

“What’s wrong?” Tam asked, floundering under the covers in an attempt to quickly get out from under them.

“Nothing! Truly, nothing. I’m just… still not used to that eye thing you do,” Dorian admitted.

“Oh,” Tam said, relieved. “You scared me. I thought something bad had happened.” He found the edge of the blanket and popped out from under it with a rueful smile.

“I’m sorry that I scared you,” Dorian said, combing his fingers through Tam’s wildly tousled hair. “Does this mean you aren’t going to continue?”

The genuine disappointment in Dorian’s voice made Tam chuckle, embarrassed but pleased at the same time. “No. I’d be more than happy to keep going.”

Rather than either of them fighting more with the blanket, Dorian simply threw it aside. He propped himself up on the pillows for a better view as Tam crawled between his legs to pick up where he had left off. Even with only the moon for light and the startling way Dalish eyes reflected in darkness, watching Tam was something Dorian found highly erotic. To Dorian, seeing the way his cock vanished into the hot confines of Tam’s mouth was almost as enjoyable as the way it felt.

Tam would argue that he had easily as much fun giving as Dorian did receiving. He loved the way Dorian’s hand grasped his hair, fingers twisted in the ginger strands more for an anchor point than as a way to actually try to control him. It pulled just enough to feel, sending a delightful shiver down Tam’s spine - but even as his head bobbed up and down as much of Dorian’s length as he could handle, the pulling was never enough to actually hurt.

Tam’s favorite part was when he looked up, catching and holding Dorian’s heavy-lidded gaze. That look sent fire through his blood stream, a heady rush from the realization that he currently held an overwhelming amount of power. Tam cupped Dorian’s balls in his hand, feeling their warm weight against his palm while his thumb teased over the delicate skin. He hummed his appreciation, creating a tickle of vibration that made Dorian gasp. That hadn’t actually been on purpose, but Tam took note of its effect with great interest.

Dorian’s grip tightened, a twist in Tam’s hair that sent a brief frisson of pain down his spine. Dorian’s breath hitched again, his mouth struggling to form words. “Tam,” he managed, the name leaving his lips as a heavy moan.

Tam understood it as a warning, bracing himself for what was coming without letting up on bringing Dorian closer and closer to that edge. He swirled his tongue around the tip, adding the encouraging vibration of his own voice. Dorian’s toes curled in the sheets, his hips bucking up as he exploded into Tam’s mouth.

Even though he had tried to be prepared for it, Tam wasn’t ready. He swallowed convulsively, fighting the choking feeling as more hit the back of his throat. When Dorian’s hand finally slackened in Tam’s hair, Tam allowed himself to pull back and cough.

“Are you all right?” Dorian asked, watching him with hazy concern in his eyes.

“I am,” Tam assured him. “Are you?”

Dorian chuckled warmly. “Ask me again once I can feel my legs. But I am… fantastic. That was amazing. _You_ are amazing.”

“That was fun,” Tam admitted, his cheeks flushing with pleasure. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“Liked it?” Dorian echoed incredulously. “Tamvir, you are a master of understatement. You may as well call the Breach a storm cloud.”

“You mean it’s not?” Tam quipped, earning a broad grin in response. He pushed aside the curtain and climbed out of the bed to get a drink of water, feeling Dorian’s eyes following him the whole way. Knowing he was being watched made Tam blush again, but it also added an extra bit of sway to his step as he crossed the room.

Tam poured a cup of water from the carafe by the sofa and returned to the bed to offer Dorian a drink. Dorian pushed himself up into a sitting position before accepting the mug. He took a sip and handed it back to Tam, who had another drink and set the cup on the bedside table. Tam returned to Dorian’s side, but before he could settle in next to him, Dorian pulled him into his lap instead.

“What are-- ah!” Tam yelped and braced his hands on Dorian’s thighs as Dorian’s hand snaked around to wrap around Tam’s cock.

“You don’t honestly think I’m going to leave you hanging?” Dorian asked, his mouth close to Tam’s ear. His tongue darted out to run along the edge of it, making Tam shudder. It was a sensory counterpart to the actions of Dorian’s hand, the way it stroked and squeezed in sure, practiced movements.

Tam gasped, lifting his hips slightly and seeking more of the friction Dorian’s hand supplied. Dorian chuckled and traced Tam’s other ear with his index finger, earning himself another shivery yelp of surprise. With his other hand tending unrelentingly to Tam’s cock, Dorian’s fingers moved past his ear to slip into Tam’s open mouth.

Tam’s lips closed around the first two digits, Dorian sliding them in and out in time to the rhythm of his strokes. “Have I mentioned how much I like your mouth?” Dorian asked, the question a low purr that tickled against Tam’s earlobe.

Tam was unable to articulately respond, offering instead a plaintive moan while he lapped at the fingers that caressed his tongue. Dorian kissed the soft spot behind Tam’s ear and made his way slowly down his neck, teeth scraping gently over Tam’s racing pulse. Tam reached up to clench his fist in Dorian’s hair. Dorian responded by focusing in on the same place again, kissing and sucking at it until Tam squirmed and made a pained noise.

Dorian murmured a muffled apology, drawing Tam’s attention away from the small hurt by rasping the pad of his thumb over the exposed tip of Tam’s cock. It made Tam gasp and release Dorian’s fingers, which withdrew from his mouth. “Shall I make you come?” Dorian hummed thoughtfully, as if the answer was elusive. His free arm curled around Tam, hand splayed over his chest.

“Please,” Tam gasped, bucking his hips even as Dorian’s hand on his chest held him mostly in place and at Dorian’s mercy.

It was mercy that Dorian gave him, quickening the pace and tightening his grip on Tam’s cock. He did not relent, Tam’s ragged, breathy moans loud in his ears and Tam’s fingernails biting tiny crescents where they dug into Dorian’s thigh. Dorian felt it when Tam went completely still, breath catching for that split second before his world came apart with a bone-deep shudder and a guttural cry.

Hot fluid splashed against Tam’s abdomen and oozed down over Dorian’s fingers. Dorian gently played his hand along the length of Tam’s cock until it was spent, coaxing out the last drops with a smug sort of satisfaction. Tam sagged bonelessly against him, only offering a small noise of complaint when Dorian carefully extracted himself from their tangle of limbs so he could get up.

“Oh, good,” Dorian said, looking out the windows as he retrieved a soft towel from atop the small chest of drawers on the corner. “It looks early enough that we can get some more rest before Leliana begins demanding your presence at the war table.” Dorian cleaned himself up and came back to the bed to help Tam do the same.

“I was hoping that would be the case,” Tam admitted, wiping down before trading the towel for a drink from the mug of water from earlier. “Thank you, vhenan.”

Dorian grinned and climbed back into bed next to Tam, spooning him and pulling the blankets over them both. “I think I’m the one who should be thanking you. We should do this more often.”

“I could be up for that,” Tam agreed. “Though it means you’ll have to wake up as early as I do.”

“The rewards, amatus, far outweigh the sacrifice.”

Tam laughed and hugged Dorian’s arm close to his chest. “How noble you are.”

“I know.” Dorian sighed contentedly. “It’s utterly ridiculous and it’s all your fault."


	13. Messenger Crows

“What was that you said to Scout Harding earlier?” Dorian asked Tam, leaning on his staff like it was a walking stick. They were taking a short breather after an ambush by not one but two giants. Varric sat on a rock so he could make adjustments to his crossbow while Cassandra cleaned the blood off her sword with a rag.

Tam wiped his daggers in the grass before sheathing them, taking his time before answering the question. “’We are the last elvhen, never again shall we submit’,” he quoted. “This place was once the Emerald March. Before the fall of Halamshiral, each elvhen warrior had a tree planted here to represent their life and service. Most of those warriors later died trying to defend the city… making the Emerald Graves like a forest of grave markers.”

“So what you’re saying is that we’re walking through a graveyard?” Dorian asked, glancing around them with renewed interest.

“Not exactly,” Tam said, picking his way through the rock-strewn grasses to lay his hand reverently on the trunk of one of the massive trees. “These are Vallasdahlen. Life-Trees. They honor the lives of the Emerald Knights, but those they represent are not buried beneath them.

“Good,” Cassandra grunted. “I think we have dealt enough with the undead.”

“Scared, Seeker?” Varric asked as he settled Bianca against his back where she was within easy reach.

Cassandra snorted and sheathed her sword. “I am not scared, Varric. I am grateful that we are not fighting shambling horrors alongside these giants.”

“I think that abandoned Chateau was plenty of horror,” Tam agreed with an undisguised shiver.

“I, for one, never would have guessed that the almighty Inquisitor is afraid of things going bump in the night, but you squeaked like a scared nug, Ginger,” Varric said with a grin. “Andraste’s tits, you should have seen the crazy shit Bartrand’s red lyrium idol caused before we took care of it.”

“No thanks,” Tam said with a grimace. “I’d rather fight an enemy I can see - and stab.” He stepped back from the tree, bare feet crunching on gravel as he returned to the group.

“I found it fascinating. A trifle difficult to maneuver occasionally,” Dorian said with a significant glance a Tam, “but an interesting look into Southerners and their superstitions.” Dorian grinned and Tam flushed before hastily looking away. There had been more than once in the abandoned Chateau d’Onterre of Tam hiding behind Dorian when eerie things had happened, such as candles flickering to life or snuffing out on their own, or object floating in the air only to fling themselves into the walls.

“We should keep moving,” Cassandra said, changing the subject much to Tam’s relief. “We aren’t far from the next outpost.”

“You’re right,” Tam agreed. “We should try to get to camp before nightfa-- whoa!” he pinwheeled his arms in order to stay upright, the large crow that had swooped down to land on his shoulder upsetting his balance. The crow’s raucous caw sounded like laughter, and it used its wicked beak to affectionately preen a lock of Tam’s hair - much to Tam’s continued surprise.

“That’s one of Leliana’s,” Cassandra said, moving to Tam’s side in order to remove the bird from his shoulder and retrieve the message it carried. She unrolled the scroll, glancing at the addressee before handing the paper over to Tam.

Tam took the missive, eyes skimming over the neatly printed words. His ears flattened as he read and the color slowly drained out of his face. “It’s my Clan,” he finally said, licking his lips as he carefully and deliberately rolled the letter back up. 

“Is something wrong?” Dorian asked, sharing a worried glance with Varric and Cassandra.

“Everything’s fine,” Tam assured them, though his tone betrayed his blatant lie. “It’s nothing, really. Just… it’s just that the Keeper wrote to tell me that my sister is coming to Skyhold.”

“Oh, is that all?” Varric laughed, hiding his relief better than Dorian, who visibly relaxed with the explanation. “I thought you were gonna say everyone died or something.”

“Varric!” Cassandra hissed.

“No, he’s right,” Tam said with a forced chuckle. “Anyway, I’d like to try to get back to Skyhold before she arrives.”

***

Tam left Cullen’s office feeling no less jittery than when he’d entered. Cullen was pleased with the information that had been gathered in the Emerald Graves, and he had mentioned something about a mine near Sahrnia, but admittedly Tam was too distracted remember exactly what had been said.

He was trying his best to focus on the tasks at hand - taking down Samson and eventually Corypheus himself - but his sister’s impending arrival made concentrating difficult. It was impossible to know when Lasani would arrive, a fact that put Tam even more on edge. It left his nerves raw enough that he did something he had never done before: he sought out the tavern for the sake of getting a stiff drink.

“Doesn’t look like you’re looking for your usual, Your Worship,” Cabot commented when Tam claimed one of the empty bar stools.

“You’re absolutely right,” Tam admitted. “Something stronger, please?”

Cabot grunted his acknowledgement and handed a tankard over to Tam. It smelled violently potent, like the venom of some terrible creature. Tam’s nose wrinkled. He was unable to muster the courage to take a drink just yet, so instead he just held the mug in both hands and watched the ripples in the liquid fade.

“Not to your liking, I take it?” Tam’s neighbor asked, stopping Tam from completely retreating into his own head.

“What? Oh, no, it’s…” Tam lifted the tankard, but still couldn’t make himself actually ingest the frightening concoction. Defeated, he set it back down. “I don’t really drink very much,” he said sheepishly.

“Then this must be some sort of special occasion, yes?” The amusement coloring the accented voice would have been patronizing if Tam hadn’t looked up to see the smile on the other man’s face.

He had blond hair, a pair of braids at his temples tied back and serving to mostly keep the rest of it out of his face. The style clearly showed his pointed ears, as well as framing the three graceful, dark lines that curved sinuously down the side of his face. Tawny eyes watched Tam with deceptively gentle interest; despite the warm smile that curved the man’s lips, Tam still felt like a mouse caught under the scrutiny of a bird of prey.

“I just have a lot on my mind,” Tam finally said, looking away from those unnerving eyes. “It’s… it’s family. You know - complicated.”

“Many a strong man has turned to drink when confronted with matters of family,” the blond elf said, reaching out to take the wooden tankard out of Tam’s unresisting hands. He sniffed the contents and made a disgusted face before setting it down on the bar and offering his hand to Tam. “Come, walk with me. You look like a man who could use some fresh air.”

Tam hesitated before placing his hand in the stranger’s and letting himself be led outside. He held himself on alert, vividly aware of the weight of his daggers in their sheaths on his back should things take a turn for the dramatic and violent. Tiny details stood out in the wake of Tam’s high alert, like the gold hoop that swung gently from the other man’s ear and glinted in the light. The shiny object held Tam’s attention as they ascended the stairs to the battlements. When they reached the top of the stairs, Tam was embarrassed to realize that the stranger was still holding his hand.

“Why don’t we start again, but this time from the beginning?” The stranger said, letting go of Tam’s hand and turning to face him. He executed a small but graceful bow. “Zevran Arainai, formerly of Antiva. And you would be…?”

“Tamvir of Clan Lavellan. But everyone just calls me Tam.” Tam bowed his head in return, hesitant to take his eyes off of the strange elf. Zevran had been nothing but polite so far, but Tam had seen the two daggers that Zevran carried, clearly well-used but exquisitely cared for. Zevran’s relaxed demeanor was contagious, however, and when he leaned back against the stone pillars that made up the outer barrier of the walkway Tam found himself following suit before he could stop himself.

“And I am simply Zev to my friends,” Zevran said with a smile. “So, Tamvir. What complicated family matter could have a young man as sweet and pure as yourself seeking the bottom of a bottle?”

“I received a letter that my older sister will be coming here to Skyhold,” Tam said, pushing away from the stone in order to cross his arms. His fingers dug into the soft leather of his jacket. “Don’t get me wrong - I love my sister very much. But she can be…” he hesitated, but Zevran patiently waited for him to find the words. “Intense. I’m afraid of how she’s going to react to… to certain things.”

“She is family, no?” Zevran shrugged. “For many, ties of blood can mean forgiveness for a multitude of sins.”

“She hates humans in general,” Tam explained, teeth worrying his lower lip. “Tevinters in particular, thanks to the slavers our Clan has come into conflict with in the past.”

“And that will be a problem? I had no idea that the Inquisition was in league with Tevinter slavers.”

“It’s not!” Tam exclaimed, quickly jumping on the defensive. Zevran laughed and help up his hands in a placating gesture.

“A jest - my apologies,” he said. Tam found himself believing the apology. “So your sister will be joining you here in the middle of nowhere. This sounds like a rather strange course of action for one who dislikes humans. There are rather a few here, in case you had not noticed. Why do you not go to her instead?”

“Because I’m needed here,” Tam said with a small, frustrated sigh. “The Inquisitor can’t just run off like that - besides, the letter mentioned something about how she wants to make sure I’m being treated well.” He ruffled his hand through his hair and flashed a rueful smile. “Family, right?”

“There are pros and cons, or so I am told.” Zevran chuckled. “You know, I must say - for as reclusive as Dalish clans tend to be, it is amusing that twice in recent memory has it been a Dalish elf who stands between Ferelden and disaster.”

At Tam’s puzzled expression, Zevran laughed again. “Speaking of such--“ he began, but a voice from below interrupted him.

“I thought I heard a Crow squawking around here,” Leliana said, her voice pitched to carry with a razor sharp edge. A glance over the edge showed her waiting with her hands on her hips, her lips compressed into the thin line as she looked up at them through narrowed eyes. “You are late, Zevran.”

“Ah, Leliana!” Zevran turned momentarily back to Tam and sketched a bow. “Inquisitor.” He hopped over the edge to drop to the ground below, landing in a full crouch in front of the Inquisition’s spymaster. Too curious to stay put, Tam followed him through the same method. 

“You were supposed to come to me the moment you arrived,” Leliana said, glaring at Zevran. “It was urgent.”

“Here I am,” Zevran said, holding his arms akimbo. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care that he had raised the anger of one of the most terrifying people in Skyhold. “Come, let us get a bottle of wine and catch up. I hear you have been very busy since last we saw you.”

Leliana snorted in annoyance, her attention diverting briefly to Tam. “Inquisitor, I take it the two of you have met? Good. I was hoping that Zevran may be able to work with you. He was one of the Antivan Crows; surely there must be some techniques you could learn from him.”

“I look forward to working with you,” Tam said, the unsettling feeling he got from Zevran finally making sense. Being alone with a professional assassin was more than acceptable cause for the underlying paranoia Tam had been feeling.

“As do I,” Zevran replied, giving Tam a blatant, sweeping once-over glance from untidy hair to bare toes. “Very much, in fact.”

“We have things to discuss, Zevran,” Leliana said, gesturing for him to follow and turning to head back to the keep and her tower. She did not wait for Zevran, though the assassin amiably fell into step behind her.

Tam let out a breath he hadn’t meant to hold for so long and cast a glance toward the tavern. Drinking, obviously, was not what he needed. What he needed was time to process all the new information he had been given, and then make a decision on what to do with it.


	14. Family Matters

While Dorian leafed through a book, Tam paced the alcove they occupied. He stepped carefully around piles of books and loose pieces of paper covered in Dorian’s elegant script, his bare feet barely making a sound. Every few seconds led Tam back to the intricate leaded glass window, where he paused briefly to peer out at the entrance of Skyhold.

As Tam passed Dorian’s chair for what felt like the thousandth time that hour, Dorian grabbed his hand and bodily dragged him into his lap. “I wonder if you might be nervous?” Dorian asked, the words dripping with sarcasm. “Pacing like that isn’t going to make time move any faster, you know.”

“I know,” Tam said with a sigh, taking a moment to curl up comfortably in Dorian’s reassuring embrace. “I can’t help it. I mean… I’m excited to see her again. It’s been too long. But at the same time I’m completely terrified of what she’s going to do when she finds everything out.” He groaned and buried his face in Dorian’s shoulder. “Nobody in the Clan knows I like men, let alone that you and I are together. I think Lasani might come to accept my preferences, but if you add in how much she’s always hated humans… I just don’t know, Dorian.”

“Well, you witnessed my father firsthand,” Dorian pointed out, tossing his book aside in order to run soothing fingers through Tam’s hair. “It’s only fair that we face your sister together.”

“What if I just don’t tell her?” Tam suggested, his voice muffled by Dorian’s clothes. “We could just… pretend.” The words were barely out of his mouth before he groaned again. “No, forget I said that. It’s a stupid idea - I’m sick of lying about who I am! Besides, I know she’d find out anyway. It’s better if she hears it from me instead of someone else.”

Tam lifted his head, looking into Dorian’s eyes for a long moment before gently pulling him down into a kiss. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking my sister is a pushover,” he warned when they parted. “She’s one of the Clan’s forward scouts and she’s much tougher than she appears.” 

“I’ll be careful, amatus,” Dorian promised with a hint of a smile.

Tam got to his feet, leaning down to press another short kiss on Dorian’s lips before retracing his steps back to the window. There was a flurry of activity on the battlements, and beyond the heavily guarded bridge Tam could just make out the silhouettes of three riders.

“That’s her!” He exclaimed, spinning back to Dorian. “I’m sure of it. I… I have to go.” Tam sprinted for the center of the tower and vaulted over the railing. Still in the chair, Dorian could only watch in shock.

Tam narrowly missed landing on Solas. He tumbled forward in a somersault to expend his momentum before jumping back up to his feet. “Sorry, Solas. My sister is here!” Tam explained over his shoulder as he dashed out into the Great Hall.

It felt like his feet barely touched the stairs that led out of the hold. He paused on the landing - the fateful platform on which he had been raised to Inquisitor, with all of the Inquisition’s forces and the refugees from Haven cheering him on. Standing there now, he watched three harts pass through Skyhold’s main gate and come to a halt. The front rider looked up at Tam, her familiar copper-colored hair catching the sun.

“Lasani!” Tam called to her, waving one arm high over his head. He whirled and ran down the stairs to the courtyard, reaching the lower level just as Lasani swung down from the saddle.

The siblings caught each other up in a bear hug while the other two elves dismounted. Lasani eventually pushed Tam back, holding him at arms’ length while she looked him over critically. After a moment she nodded, seemingly satisfied with what she saw. “Your shem ambassador told the truth. Good.”

“Of course she told the truth. Why wouldn’t she?” Tam shook his head. “Give them a break, Lasa. Everyone here has been very good to me, even the humans, despite whatever you might think about them.”

Lasani frowned, the branching pattern of her vallaslin making her look even fiercer than she would otherwise. Her mouth flattened to a thin line, but she let the subject drop. “Deshanna didn’t send me alone, as I’m sure you’ve noticed?” she turned slightly and beckoned to the other two elves.

“Artemis! Unali!” Tam exclaimed upon realizing who had come with her. He was embarrassed that it was the first time he’d really registered the fact that Lasani hadn’t come alone. He had _seen_ them, of course, but he hadn’t really _noticed_.

“It’s good to see you again, Tam,” Artemis said, patting her hart’s neck. She smiled and Tam couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“It’s a little strange to see you without Lupa,” Tam admitted. “And not that I’m not happy to see you, but I only knew Lasa was coming. The Keeper didn’t mention others.”

“Deshanna thought it would be good for me to come along as something of an ambassador,” Unali explained. She licked her lips and glanced up at the soldiers on the battlements, fear lurking behind her eyes.

“Lasani and I are more like Nali’s honor guard,” Artemis added helpfully.

“I don’t think Josephine planned on hosting more than just Lasa,” Tam said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Since we didn’t know you were coming, I don’t think anything is prepared. We should probably check in with her and make sure that - oh!” Tam’s ears perked and he waved over the crowd to get someone’s attention. “Cullen!”

The Commander looked like he had just come from overseeing training exercises. He still carried his shield on his arm, his lion’s head helmet dangling from the fingers of his other hand. At Tam’s call, he diverted his course to join the little group of elves.

“Inquisitor,” Cullen said, giving the other elves a quick glance that took in more than it seemed. “It there something you need?”

Tam thought he heard a muffled squeak from Artemis, but a glance only showed her handing off the reins of her hart to a waiting stable hand. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Cullen, but I don’t suppose you might be heading in to meet with Josephine? Or perhaps you have someone who could take me… er, our guests to meet with her? I would, but I… I need to speak with my sister alone.” Tam bit his lip and shuffled his feet, trying to keep down a flush of embarrassment.

“Or course,” Cullen said. He flagged down a passing runner. “You there! Oh,” he blanched as the messenger turned and he saw who it was. “Jim. No, nevermind - it’s nothing. As you were.” He turned back to the three of them, the scar on his lip pulling as he smiled awkwardly. “I’ll escort them myself.”

“Thank you.” Tam gestured to Artemis and Unali as the stable hands dutifully led the Clan Lavellan mounts off to the stables. “Unali, Artemis - this is Cullen, the commander of the Inquisition’s troops. Cullen this is Unali: she’s our Keeper’s First and she says she’s here as an ambassador to the Inquisition. And this is Artemis: she’s one of the best hunters in the whole Clan.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Cullen said with a polite, if short, nod. “If you’ll come this way, please?”

Artemis gave Tam a brief, wide-eyed glance as she passed him to follow in Cullen’s wake. Not understanding what she meant by it, Tam just offered a confused, forced smile in return. He watched the three of them walk away until they disappeared into the Keep, Unali looking around in awe but Artemis seeming more interested in what was directly in front of her.

“You want to talk to me alone?” Lasani asked skeptically, her eyes narrowed. “What are you hiding, Tamvir?”

Tam’s ears flattened and Lasani’s frown deepened. “Not here,” Tam said. “Come with me.” He grabbed his sister’s hand and led the way through the courtyard, throwing a glance up at the windows of the library tower and wondering if Dorian was watching.

They climbed the stairs and made their way up to the ramparts, following the roundabout path that led them to a wing of guest rooms overlooking the central garden. Tam’s nerves sang with adrenaline through the whole trip, his fingers restlessly clenching and unclenching. He pushed open the door to the room on the very end of the row and ushered Lasani inside.

“Josephine - Lady Montilyet - had this room set up for you,” Tam explained. The door closed behind them, cutting them off from those who might find great interest in the personal affairs of the Inquisitor. “If it’s too much and you can’t sleep, it has easy access so you can go down into the garden during the night. I did that a few times after we first got here so I thought you might…” he trailed off, seeing Lasani’s stern expression.

“You’re stalling, Tam,” Lasani said flatly.

“Only a little,” Tam countered, fighting the adrenaline-induced desire to keep moving and not stand still.

“What is going on? What do you need to tell me that you couldn’t say before?” Lasani crossed her arms and fixed Tam with a penetrating stare. Her eyes, framed by the branches of Mythal, gave her a hawkish look: Tam certainly felt like a nug standing in the shadow of a bird of prey.

Tam looked down at his fingers, twisting them together in a tiny outlet for his building anxiety. The anchor twinged, most likely in reaction to his nervousness moving quickly up to unmanageable levels. “It’s… maybe it’s not really a big deal, but I don’t really like talking about personal matters in public if I can help it. Not that it does much to stop gossip here, but…” he breathed a sigh and raked a hand through his hair. “Lasa, I… what I wanted to say is that I’m in love with someone.”

Lasani’s frown eased, the small crease between her brows disappearing. “That’s it?” she asked with a short bark of a laugh. “That’s what you had to get me alone to tell me?”

“Sort of,” Tam said with a nervous chuckle of his own. He chewed his lower lip before continuing hesitantly. “Mostly because I… I wasn’t sure how you’d react to finding out that the person I’m in love with is a man.”

The frown was back, though it lacked the earlier ferocity. Lasani regarded Tam in silence for a long, uncomfortable moment. Finally, she sighed. “I always thought you and Nali would make a cute couple. Creators know she’s liked you for years. But, I suppose I can get used to the idea that your preferences lie… elsewhere. It could be worse, after all.” Lasani smirked. “You could have said you were in love with a human.”

Tam winced. “Um… about that.”

“What?” Lasani asked, her voice low and heavy with suspicion.

“He is human. He’s a human mage from Tevinter,” Tam admitted, ears as flat to his head as they could go. 

Lasani’s eyes were stormy, her frown deepening into a scowl. “A preference for men is one thing. Even mother and father would be all right with that as long as you’re happy. But a _shemlen_?” Lasani demanded, “And not just any shemlen, but one from _Tevinter_? Have you lost your mind, Tamvir?”

“He’s not like the ones you’ve dealt with, Lasa!” Tam insisted. “He treats me as an equal - he treats me with respect. And he cares for me. He would never do anything to hurt me.”

“Or so he wants you to believe,” Lasani spat. “Pretty lies to secure your trust. Tamvir, that shem is just going to use you for the power you can give him. As soon as the power you’re holding fades, you’ll be lucky if all he does is outright discard you. If he’s truly Tevinter, he’s more likely to sell you off as a slave before you realize what’s happening.”

“Dorian wouldn’t do that!” Tam protested. “Lasani, listen to me!”

“Enough, Tamvir,” Lasani said curtly. “I need to get my bow and shoot something.” She pushed past Tam to the door. “We will speak again later, once you have had time to remember what happens to elves who trust shems.”

She left, scaling the rooftops of Skyhold as easily as she would trees. Tam hurried from the room too, but headed deeper into the keep to find Dorian - to warn him as well as to seek his advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artemis (and Lupa) belong to the lovely ZylphiaCrowley  
> Unali belongs to my beloved Gryffie
> 
> Consistent updates? What are those?? (Thanks, real life!!)  
> For real though, if you're reading this - thank you for sticking with me.


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